4' 

0^' 


THE  RAMBLER 


IN 


NORTH  AMERICA, 


MDCCCXXXII  MDCCCXXXIII. 


BY   CHARLES    JOSEPH  LATROBE, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  "ALPENSTOCK,"  ETC. 


"  Cflelum  non  animum  mutant,  qui  trans  mare  currunt." 

HOR.  EPiST. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


NE  W-YORK: 
PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

NO.    82  CLIFF-STREET, 

AND  SOLD  BY  THE  PRINCIPAL  BOOKSELLERS  THROUGHOUT  TBB 
UNITED  STATES. 


183  5. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/rfmblerinnortham01latr_0 


TO 

WASHINGTON    IRVING,  Esq. 

THESE  VOLUMES 
ARE 
INSCRIBED, 
IN  TOKEN  OF  AFFECTIONATE  ESTEEM 
AND  REMEMBRANCE, 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS 

or 

THE    FIRST  VOLUME. 


Page 

Lettrr  I. — Introduction  13 

Letter  II. — French  Quarantine — Departure  from  Europe — The 
Havre  Packet-ship — The  Voyage — Mates — Emigrants — Live  Stock 
—Mocking-bird — The  Bermudas — Sandy  Hook— The  Quarantine, 
Staten  Island— The  New  World  .  21 

Letter  III. — The  New  World — Renewal  of  Early  Feelings — 
View  from  the  Heights  of  Staten  Island — The  Bay  of  New-York — 
Peculiar  beauty  of  New-York — Philadelphia — Baltimore — Wash- 
ington— The  Spring — Distinct  Character  of  the  Verdure  in  Europe 
and  America — Maryland  Strawberry-parties — Vale  of  the  Patapsco 
— The  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad — The  Point  of  Rocks — Har- 
per's Ferry — The  River  of  the  Woods — The  Manor — Characteris- 
tics of  American  Scenery — Absence  of  the  Picturesque — Presence  of 
the  SubHme  27 

Letter  IV. — Quit  New- York  for  New-England — Vale  of  the 
Connecticut — Hartford — Northampton — -Early  History  of  the  New 
England  Colonies — Love  of  the  early  Settlers  for  the  Mother  Coun- 
try— The  Colonies  essentially  Republican  from  their  Foundation — 
Boston — New-Hampshire — Winnipisseogee  Lake  —  The  White 
Mountains — Spontaneous  Vegetation — The  Notch — Mount  Wash- 
ington— Scenery  of  the  White  Hills — Vermont — The  Green  Hills 
— Royalton,  Description  of — Character  of  the  Inhabitants  of  New 


England — Saratoga — Niagara  42 

Letter  V. — Absence  of  Nationality  of  Character  in  the  United 
States — Sensitiveness  to  Foreign  Censure — The  real  Claims  of 
America  to  Respect   .  59 


1 


VI  CONTENTS. 

Letter  VI. — Niagara — The  Past  and  Present — Scenery  of  the 
Falls — Lake  Erie — A  change  of  Plan — Removal  of  the  Indians  be- 
yond the  Mississippi — Cincinnati  64 

Letter  VII. — Settlement  of  the  West — Character  of  the  early 
Adventurers — Spirit  of  Restlessness  in  the  M^orld — The  French  in 
America — Boone  and  his  Comrades — Original  Scenery  of  Kentucky 
— The  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground — Emigration  from  the  Settled 
States  to — Position  of  the  Settlers — The  Regulators — Camp-Meet- 
ings— Daniel  Boone  72 

Letter  VIII. — Cincinnati — Louisville — The  Rapids — Canal — 
The  Ohio— The  Spring  Floods,  1832— Voyage  of  the  first  Steam- 
boat on  the  Western  Waters — Earthquakes,  effects  of,  throughout 
the  West — The  Ohio — The  Mississippi — St.  Louis — Black  Ilawk 
— ^Preparations  for  departure  to  the  Indian  Country — St.  Charles  83 

Letter  IX. — The  Missouri — Tonish — Mode  of  Travel — Char- 
acter of  the  country  in  the  State  of  Missouri — Buildings — Poul- 
try-hunt— Thirty  mile  Prairie — Flora  of  the  Prairies — ^The  Santa 
Fe  Traders — Arrival  at  Independence   .  98 

Letter  X. — Rendezvous  at  Independence — Description  of  a 
Frontier  Town — The  Ferry — The  Missouri,  Features  of,  and  Phe- 
nomena connected  w^ith — -The  "  Clearing" — A  Quilting  Frolic — A 
Farm  in  the  Backwoods — The  Commissary- General — Horse-deal- 
ing— Mr.  Elisha  Pike — The  Shawanese  Agency — Final  Departure 
for  the  Osage  Country  103 

Letter  XI. — Description  of  a  Frontier  March — Characters — The 
Colonel — The  Commissioner — The  Doctor — William — The  Pre- 
v6t — Tonish — Dogs — Camping  scenes   .  .115 

Letter  XII. — The  Prairies — Mission  Settlement — Harmony — ' 
The  Great  Osage  River — Indian  Costumes — Morning  on  the  Prai- 
ries— The  Osage  Country — "  The  Destroyer  of  Cities" — Indian 
March,  and  Indian  Encampments — The  Osage — -The  Indian  Tribes, 
their  Condition,  and  probable  Fate — The  Influence  of  the  Whites — 
The  Indian  System— The  Neosho — The  Saline — Western  Creek 
Agency  122 

Letter  XIII. — Preparations  for  a  fresh  Departure — Projects 
abandoned,  and  projects  embraced — The  Departure — The  Setting 
Sun — Antoine — Beatte,  a  half-breed  Hunter — The  River  Arkansas 
— The  Rangers — The  Bee-Camp — Bald  Hill — The  Approach  to  the 
Ford— The  Red  Fork— The  Skunk— The  Ford  of  the  Arkansas— 
The  Bear's  Glen — Cooking  Camp  136 


CONTENTS. 


vii 


Letter  XIV. — Cooking  Camp — The  Rangers — Their  Pastimes 
and  Characters — The  American  Rifle — Enjoyments  of  Hfe  in  the 
Prairies— The  Valley  of  the  Red  Fork— The  Western  Desert— The 
Pawnee — The  Bison — Pawnee  sign — The  Camp  of  the  Wild  Horse 
— Preparations  for  War — "  Uncle  Sam" — Beatte  and  the  Wild  Horse 
— Passage  of  the  Red  Fork  149 


Letter  XV. — The  Cross  Timbers — An  Alarm — Mischances — 
Character  of  the  Cross  Timbers — The  Osage  Camp — The  North 
Fork — Chase  of  Wild  Horses — Tonish's  Exploits — Rencounter  with 
a  party  of  Osage  Warriors — The  Wet  Camp — Proceedings  in  ditto 
Uncle  Sam"— The  Big  Prairie— The  Bison  Chase— A  Comrade 
lost   163 


Letter  XVL — Sequel  to  the  Bison  Chase — A  lost  Comrade 
tracked  and  found — The  Great  Canadian — Prairie  Dogs — Return  to 
the  Fort— Deep  Creek — Character  of  the  Return — State  of  the 
Party — Western  Creek  Agency  179 


Letter  XVIL — Proceedings  after  Return  to  the  Agency — Ton- 
ish — Further  Traits  of  Character — The  Rangers — Fort  Gibson — 
The  Prairie-Fowl — Arrangements  for  Return  to  the  Eastward — 
Adieu  to  Fort  Gibson — The  Canoe — The  River  Arkansas — A  week 
upon  its  surface — Frenchmen  Jack's — State  of  the  Country,  past 
and  present — Features  of  the  River — Sergeant  Waddle,  and  Private 
Connoughty — Flights  of  Birds  of  Passage — The  Ozark  Mountains 
— Little  Rock — Adieu  to  the  Far  West — Our  Acquisitions — Decoy- 
ing— Passage  from  Little  Rock  to  the  Mississippi — The  Post  of 
Arkansas — White  River — Montgomery's  Point — The  "  Father  of 
Waters,"  its  Features  and  Phenomena  .186 


"  Letter  XVHL — The  Cavalier,  Steamboat — The  Mississippi  and 
Ohio — Sharpers — Distinction  between  the  Eastern  and  Western 
Boats — Description  of  the  latter — Scenes  on  board — Wooding — 
The  Firemen— The  Keptucky  Swell— The  Ohio— Wheeling— Bal- 
timore  214 


Letter  XIX. — Temper  of  Foreigners  in  foreign  Countries — 
American  Travellers  in  Europe — English  Travellers  in  America  232 


LETTER  I 


TO  F.  B.  L. 

We  have  both,  by  this  time,  become  aware  of  a 
melancholy  truth.  We  have  both  seen,  that,  however 
a  common  lot  may  be  awarded  to  the  young  members 
of  a  family  in  early  life  ;  to  whatever  degree  a  common 
education  may  strengthen  the  natural  affection  im- 
planted in  their  bosoms — blend  together  their  youthful 
associations,  and  form  their  tastes  on  the  same  models  ; 
— in  fine,  however  potent  the  spell  which  pervades 
their  spirits,  and  seems  to  unite  their  hearts  indis- 
solubly  together — the  approach  of  manhood  rarely  fails 
to  scatter  the  little  band  to  the  four  winds  ;  and  the 
time  comes  when  long  periods  of  separation  and  ab- 
sence, though  they  may  not  choke  a  generous  interest, 
or  stifle  affection,  must  impair,  if  not  destroy  inti- 
macy. Epistolary  correspondence  may,  it  is  true,  offer 
under  most  circumstances  a  partial  remedy,  and  to 
that  we  have  hitherto  had  recourse  to  fill  the  chasms 
produced  in  our  intimacy,  from  having  for  many  years 
pursued  diverging  paths.  May  we  never  quite  neg- 
lect it ! 

You  may  recollect,  that  when  boys  at  school,  I 
seemed,  as  you  were  my  junior,  to  have  a  certain 
natural  right  to  stretch  the  sceptre  of  patronage  over 
you.  When  fatigued  of  looking  up  to  my  two  elder 
brothers  as  models  of  scarcely  attainable  perfection 
and  wisdom,  it  was  encouraging  to  turn  and  cast  a 
glance  of  complacency  on  you,  with  the  reflection, 

VOL.  I.  2 


4 


14 


LETTER  I. 


that  in  your  eyes  at  least,  I  must  appear  a'  personage 
of  equally  superior  intelligence.  At  this  later  day  the 
doubt  may  well  occur  to  me,  whether  the  two  or  three 
years  by  which  I  was  your  senior,  had  in  fact  given 
me  a  very  decided  advantage  over  you  in  moral  and 
physical  alertness  or  power.  This  however  I  keep  in 
remembrance,  that  you  certainly  looked  up  to  me 
with  a  far  greater  degree  of  respect  than  I  merited,  and 
with  a  degree  of  affection,  which,  whatever  may  have 
been  the  fate  of  the  former  sentiment,  has  in  no  degree 
been  diminished  by  added  years,  different  pursuits,  and 
long  terms  of  separation. 

But  it  may  be  admitted,  that  even  at  the  present  day, 
when  both  are  well  advanced  in  manhood,  there  still 
exists  a  certain  weakness  in  my  manner  of  looking 
upon  you.  When  addressing  you  as  at  the  present 
time,  I  persuade  myself  that  in  your  breast  at  least 
there  are  sentiments  which  will  prove  far  stronger  than 
the  spirit  of  criticism.  Moreover,  I  am  still,  without 
fear  of  contradiction,  a  few  years  older,  and  if  I  dare 
presume  to  instruct  and  amuse  any  one,  it  may  be 
yourself.  In  this  spirit  I  take  up  my  pen  to  reply  to 
your  last  letter. 

You  say  you  continue  to  be  interested  in  every  step 
I  take,  and  feel  curiosity  to  follow  me  through  the 
scenes  which  have  been  presented  to  my  view  on  the 
opposite  shores  of  the  Atlantic.  I  will  try  to  answer 
your  interest,  and  satisfy  your  curiosity,  and,  as  far  as 
circumstances  allow,  to  give  you  a  history  of  what  my 
comrade  and  myself  have  seen,  achieved,  or  suffered 
for  some  time  past.  A  period  of  tranquil  and  sedentary 
existence  has  succeeded  to  a  long  term  of  travel  and 
constant  activity,  and  a  portion  of  its  hours  cannot, 
perhaps,  be  employed  to  better  purpose. 

I  might,  it  is  true,  as  an  alternative,  send  you  a 
portmanteau,  full  of  papers  of  all  descriptions,  printed 
and  manuscript,  which,  in  spite  of  many  efforts  to  the 
contrary,  has  been  added  to  my  travelling  equipage, 
and,  generously  telling  you  that  they  contain  no  se- 
crets, bid  you  pick  and  choose,  and  burn  or  read,  as 


■4r 


INTRODUCTORY.  15 

you  may  feel  inclined.  But  in  so  acting,  I  should  do 
you  no  justice,  and  myself  perhaps  yet  less. 

I  may  be  mistaken  in  my  estimate  of  your  peculiar 
taste,  and  in  my  judgment  as  to  that  part  of  the  heap 
which  would  be  most  in  accordance  with  it.  Tastes 
differ.  I  received  a  letter  while  in  America  from  a 
common  friend  of  ours,  one  worthy  of  both  attention 
and  esteem,  and  one  whom  I  should  be  proud  to 
oblige.  It  was  in  return  to  one  of  mine,  which  I  had 
closed  with  a  well-meant  inquiry,  whether  I  could  be 
of  any  service  to  him.  The  following  is  an  extract 
from  the  reply  :  "  We  have  had  plenty  of  descriptions 
of  the  American  House  of  Representatives,  the  Presi- 
dent's levee.  Tell  me  how  the  poor  are  provided 
for ; — what  sort  of  people  are  the  overseers  ? — have 
they  vestry  meetings  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  ?  How 
are  the  work-houses  arranged  and  regulated  ?  What 
is  the  bill  of  fare  in  such  places  ?  What  do  the 
inmates  cost  per  head  ?  Are  they  farmed  or  not  ?  Is 
there  any  remnant  of  a  religious  establishment  ?  Rail- 
ways, are  they  increasing  ?  Do  they  pay  or  not  V  and 
so  forth ;  the  whole  concluding  with  this  pithy  piece 
of  advice,  "  let  your  letters,  in  short,  be  about  men, 
and  not  about  mountains ;  and  let  them  inform  me  of 
what  I  have  never  heard,  not  what  has  been  presented 
to  the  world  a  hundred  times  before." 

What  do  you  say  to  this  ?  It  was,  in  my  humble 
opinion,  treating  a  gentleman  in  search  of  the  pic- 
turesque no  better  than  a  church-warden.  There  was 
the  advantage  of  having  a  political  economist  for  a 
correspondent !  In  you  I  have,  at  any  rate,  the  com- 
fort of  believing  that  I  may  indulge  in  less  prosaic 
and  less  matter-of-fact  subjects.  He  might  as  w^ell 
have  required  me  to  furnish  him  with  a  set  of  essays 
upon  the  casuistical  divinity  of  the  middle  ages ;  and 
well  it  is  for  you  that  I  know  how  to  interpret  your 
expressions  of  curiosity,  or  you  might  fare  as  ill  as 
R.,  who  to  this  day  has  never  received  an  answer  to 
his  queries,  though  I  was  far  from  being  indisposed  to 
gratify  him,  had  I  been  able.    Had  he  asked  me  to 


16 


LETTER  I. 


give  him  intelligence  about  geological  phenomena,  the 
courses  of  rivers,  the  Indian  tribes-^to  inform  him 
which  was  the  most  approved  mode  of  hunting  a  bear, 
or  catching  a  raccoon,  I  should  have  known  to  whom 
to  apply,  and  how  to  obtain  the  necessary  knowledge  ; 
but  about  poor-rates  and  poor-houses,  the  rent  of 
pews,  and  the  success  of  the  voluntary  system,  I  never 
could  get  any  but  the  most  vague  and  partial  intel- 
ligence. 

I  asked  one  gentleman,  for  example,  how  the  poor 
of  his  town  were  provided  for  ?  He  answered  promptly, 
"  Poor,  sir  ! — weJiave  none."  Of  course  all  the  suc- 
ceeding queries  which  I  was  fully  prepared  to  put,  fell 
to  the  ground. 

In  other  places  I  perhaps  fared  better,  and  found 
that  there  were  absolutely  poor  people,  and  did  not  fail 
to  make  notes  of  all  the  information  I  gleaned.  But  I 
soon  grew  tired  of  my  quest  on  this  and  other  like 
points  of  interest,  and  the  prosaic  company  into  which 
it  introduced  me ;  and  more  than  all,  of  the  endless 
shades  of  distinction  in  the  systems  under  trial,  among 
a  people  spread  over  such  a  vast  extent  of  country,  and 
under  such  very  different  circumstances.  This  led  me 
to  change  my  mode  of  proceeding.  I  got  possession 
of  all  the  books  and  pamphlets,  right  and  left,  which 
appeared  to  shed  light,  or  to  bear  upon  these  and  simi- 
lar subjects  of  general  interest,  and  these  are  all  at 
your  service,  and  especially  at  that  of  our  worthy  friend. 
Therefore,  when  you  see  him,  pray  tell  him  so,  but  ad- 
vise him  not  to  apply  to  me  either  by  letter  or  orally 
for  such  information. 

Our  brief  period  of  intercourse  in  town,  during  the 
winter  of  1831-2,  made  you  aware  of  the  principal 
objects  of  my  proposed  visit  to  the  United  States  of 
America  ;  and  also  of  the  feelings  which  predominated 
in  the  anticipation  of  it. 

Whatever  natural  regrets  were  involved  in  a  de- 
parture from  Europe,  there  was  little  but  pleasure  in 
anticipation.  Without  a  feeling  of  satiety,  much  less 
of  disgust,  to  spur  me  forward,  I  was  content  to  turo 


INTRODUCTORY. 


17 


my  back  for  a  season  on  the  society  and  scenery  of 
the  Old  World,  and  look  forward  with  a  sensation 
of  undefined  pleasure  and  curiosity  to  those  western 
climes,  whose  characteristics  were  so  different  from  any 
I  had  yet  seen.  I  longed  to  wander  among  the  details 
of  that  sublime  scenery  which  the  fancy  associates  with 
the  New  World,  as  so  peculiarly  her  own :  her  wide- 
spread streams,  interminable  forests,  and  foaming  cata- 
racts ;  and  to  be  a  guest  in  the  lodges  of  that  race,  of 
whom  men  speak  as  doomed  speedily  to  disappear 
from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

I  desired  to  follow  into  their  places  of  refuge  and 
retreat,  the  crowd  of  human  beings  which  the  last  two 
centuries  had  sent  in  annual  swarms  upon  the  pathway 
opened  across  the  great  western  waters  by  the  con- 
stancy and  patient  daring  of  Columbus  ;  men  of  all 
nations,  of  all  ranks  and  degrees, — those  of  unsullied 
purity  of  life  and  character,  and  others  who  were 
steeped  to  the  lips  in  crime  ; — the  patriot,  the  dreamer 
after  Utopian  schemes  of  happiness  or  liberty; — men 
goaded  by  political  and  religious  persecution  ; — the 
disappointed  in  heart  and  purpose  ; — hundreds  incited 
by  speculation,  thousands  by  poverty  ;— the  tens  of 
thousands  who,  having  all  to  hope  and  nothing  to  lose, 
had  disappeared  from  the  countries  of  the  East,  had 
gone  and  seemingly  buried  themselves  under  the  deep 
shade  of  the  western  forest,  or  beneath  the  tall  grass  of 
the  western  prairie. 

Preparatory  to  this  visit,  my  efforts  were  more 
negative  than  positive  ;  by  which  expression  is  meant, 
that  I  attempted  to  keep  my  imagination  and  my  mind 
unbiased  and  uninfluenced  by  preconceived  notions, 
from  whatever  source  they  might  be  drawn,  rather 
than,  by  reading  the  works,  or  listening  to  the  opinions 
of  preceding  travellers,  to  run  the  hazard  of  adding 
the  prejudices  of  others  to  my  own.  As  a  foreigner, 
and,  above  all,  an  Englishman,  about  to  travel  in  a 
country  where  comparison  would  force  itself  on  the 
mind  at  every  turn,  it  was  to  be  feared  that  there  were 
obstacles  already  existing  in  my  own  bosom,  in  the 

2* 


18 


LETTER  1. 


way  of  forming  a  sound,  unbiased  judgment  of  men 
and  things.  Education,  habit,  political  bias,  and  tastes, 
might  all  be  arrayed  on  the  opposite  side,  even  sup- 
posing there  were  an  absence  of  violent  and  uncon- 
trollable prejudice.  For  the  rest,  I  flattered  myself 
that  I  had  some  advantages  to  counterbalance  the 
great  disadvantage  of  being  born  within  the  sound  of 
Bow  Bells.  I  laid  some  claim  to  the  character  of  an 
old  traveller,  having  seen  divers  countries  besides  my 
own.  Difficulties  and  asperities  which  might  disgust 
others  from  their  novelty,  might  not  work  with  equal 
eflfect  on  the  temper  of  one,  whose  European  rambles 
had  made  him  pretty  fully  acquainted  with  both  the 
rough  and  the  smooth  passages  of  a  traveller's  life. 
Providential  circumstances  had,  as  you  are  aware, 
prepared  for  me  a  home,  and  a  place  in  society, 
as  long  as  I  should  remain  in  America.  I  was,  as 
you  may  recollect,  no  very  violent  politician  ;  and 
was  inclined,  whether  from  natural  indolence  or  dull 
good-nature,  to  allow  a  very  considerable  diversity  of 
opinion  in  my  neighbour,  as  long  as  he  took  care  not  to 
contradict  me.  1  had  seen  enough  of  mankind  in 
divers  countries,  to  believe  that  no  system  of  govern- 
ment is  of  general  application,  and  that  the  govern- 
ment must  be  made  to  suit  the  people,  and  not  the 
people  to  suit  the  government.  I  loved  my  own 
country  and  its  institutions  better  than  any  other  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  and  had  no  fear  of  giving  a  pre- 
ference to  any  other,  however  its  peculiar  advantages 
might  excite  my  admiration :  and  I  need  hardly  add, 
that  no  change  has  been  wrought  in  this  feeling,  in 
which  I  hope  to  live  and  die.  I  possessed  in  my 
friend  and  your  acquaintance,  young  Count  de  Pour- 
tales,  a  cheerful  and  accomplished  travelling  com- 
panion, who,  I  believe,  was  bent  like  myself  on 
forming  opinions  from  observation.  We  wished  to 
identify  ourselves  as  much  as  possible  for  the  time 
being,  with  the  feelings  of  the  people  we  were  going 
to  visit ;  and,  as  long  as  we  were  among  them,  to 
try  to  feel  with  them  as  far  as  it  was  reasonable 


INTRODUCTORY. 


19 


to  do  so.  Lastly,  I  resolved  that  nothing  should 
tempt  me  into  the  manufacture  of  a  book,  a  resolu- 
tion which  I  have  magnanimously  maintained  to  this 
moment. 

And  now  I  still  ask  your  patience,  not  while  I 
make  promises  as  to  what  I  intend  to  do,  but  rather 
while  1  warn  you  as  to  certain  things  which  you  must 
not  expect  from  me.  Take  my  letters  for  what  they 
are  worth.  If  you  find  it  a  trouble  to  read  them, 
be  sure  that  it  has  cost  me  yet  more  to  write  them  ; 
and,  moreover,  if  you  find  me  at  any  time  particularly 
dull,  as  some  one  has  said  before  me,  be  sure  that  1 
have  a  design  in  it. 

It  is  not  my  intention  in  a  general  way  to  give  you 
descriptions  of  places  and  scenes  described  a  thousand 
times.  You  will  not  look  to  me  for  elaborate  sketches 
and  dissertations  on  transatlantic  politics,  for  I  am 
quite  ready  to  own  my  poverty  of  satisfactory  infor- 
mation on  that  head.  Virulence  of  party,  with  all  its 
concomitants  of  misrepresentation,  falsification,  and 
personality,  is  found  within  the  United  States  in  as 
great  a  degree  as  within  the  bounds  of  Britain  ;  and 
leaves  little  for  a  stranger  like  myself  to  do,  after  at- 
tempting to  pry  into  the  state  of  politics  in  America, 
whether  by  means  of  the  public  prints,  or  of  private 
inquiry,  more  than  to  turn  away  with  mingled  disgust 
and  despair. 

You  must  not  expect  pages  of  statistical  informa- 
tion ;  relations  of  stage-coach,  steamboat,  and  tap- 
room colloquies  with  Captain  This  or  Judge  That; 
anecdotes  abounding  in  slang,  and  stories  at  second- 
hand ;  much  less,  sly  peeps  into  the  interior  of  families 
who  may  have  exercised  the  rites  of  hospitality  towards 
the  stranger. 

As  to  the  first,  you  may  find  them  elsewhere  ;  and, 
moreover,  how^ever  correct  at  the  time  I  might  have 
procured  them,  they  would  probably  be  erroneous  by 
the  time  you  might  wish  to  draw  deductions  from 
them.  The  second  and  third  have  now  neither  novelty 
nor  good  taste  to  recommend  them  ;  and  as  to  the  last, 


20 


LETTER  I. 


you  may  miss  a  great  deal  of  egregious  amusement, 
but  I  respect  myself,  even  if  I  did  not  love  my  neigh- 
bour, too  much,  ever  to  repay  the  confiding  hospitality 
of  private  families  by  such  cold-blooded  displays  of 
disloyalty. 

I  have  been  now  for  ten  years  more  or  less  a 
wanderer;  and  if  any  man  should  have  learned  to 
revere  hospitality,  and  entertain  a  horror  of  the  term 
*  ungrateful  guest,'  surely  I  should  be  that  man. 
There  is  something  in  the  warm,  unchecked,  and  open- 
hearted  conduct  of  a  family  circle,  which  should  ever 
prevent  the  stranger  from  judging  what  he  there  wit- 
nesses with  a  cold  eye  and  heart,  as  though  he  had 
nothing  in  common  with  it.  Modern  philosophy,  it  is 
true,  finds  an  apology  for  this,  but  what  is  that  to  you 
or  me  ? 

As  to  the  rest,  commonsense  and  common  reflec- 
tion will  show  you,  the  more  you  see  of  human  society, 
high  or  low,  at  home  or  abroad,  that  there  exists 
scarcely  any  modification  of  it  that  has  not  its 
ridicules.''^  Few,  if  any,  are  regulated  by  such  un- 
questionable laws  of  good  sense  and  propriety  in  every 
particular,  as  not  to  give  legitimate  cause  for  ridicule. 
Every  one  aflfords  matter  for  caricature.  None  is  so 
perfect  that  the  satirist  and  the  cynic  may  not  see 
abundant  occasion  for  a  sneer;  and,  moreover,  at  the 
present  day,  a  greater  degree  of  neglect  and  contempt 
will  frequently  be  awarded  to  any  ignorance  of,  or 
deviation  from,  rules,  fancies,  and  fashions,  the  adop- 
tion of  which  is  but  conventional  and  capricious,  than 
to  absolute  departures  from  moral  rectitude,  and  sound 
principle. 

I  regret  that  my  prefatory  epistle  has  proved  so  long, 
but  I  now  bring  it  to  a  decent  conclusion. 


FRENCH  QUARANTINE. 


21 


LETTER  II. 

You  are  aware  when  and  how  I  left  London  for 
Paris  in  March,  1832  ;  having,  in  consequence  of  the 
appearance  of  the  cholera  in  England,  determined  to 
set  sail  from  a  French  port  in  preference  to  an  English 
one.  You  will  doubtless  remember  also,  how,  at  the 
very  outset,  I  found  myself  entrapped  with  a  whole 
steamboat  load  of  my  migratory  fellow-countrymen, 
by  our  French  neighbours  at  Calais,  and  that  we  were 
cooped  up  in  durance  vile,  to  perform  unwilling  qua- 
rantine in  an  old  dilapidated  fort  without  the  town 
walls,  in  spite  of  reiterated  protestations  and  expostu- 
lations of  'Mais,  Monsieur,  je  ne  suis  pas  cholerique ! 
Mais,  Monsieur,  mafemmeet  moi  sommes  ires  presses  P 
&c.  There  is  something  ludicrous,  as  well  as  vexa- 
tious, in  disappointment,  and  there  were  certain  among 
us  who  did  not  fail  to  extract  a  good  deal  of  amuse- 
ment from  the  unquestionably  disagreeable  position 
into  which  we  found  ourselves  suddenly  transported, 
and  which  we  had  subsequently  to  endure  for  three 
long  days. 

I  might  amuse  you  with  sundry  pictures  of  men 
and  manners  as  they  then  moved  before  me  ;  rejoicing 
your  English  heart  with  sly  remarks  upon  our  Gallic 
neighbours.  I  might  tell  you  how,  on  our  approach 
to  the  wharf,  the  French  craft,  great  and  small,  and 
the  rogues  in  them,  got  out  of  our  w^ay  as  if  we  had 
been  a  fire-ship  ;  how  busily  fumigation  was  carried 
on  by  a  bunch  of  sanatory  officers,  peering  out  of  a 
temporary  hut,  while,  baboon-like,  they  made  a  cat's- 
paw  of  a  poor  doctor ;  how  we  were  given  over 
by  the  medical  authority  to  the  civil — by  the  civil  to 
the  military — and  finally  handed  over  to  no  authority 
at  all,  but  shut  up  pell-mell  in  the  old  dismantled  fort, 
to  live  or  die,  as  it  might  happen,  under  the  protection 
of  the  yellow  flag.    I  might  describe  the  miserable 


22 


FRENCH  QUARANTINE. 


state  of  all  within  the  forlorn  enclosure  :  how  rude 
barracks  of  boards  formed  the  sole  accommodation, — 
and  how  for  these  we  were  indebted  to  the  pestilence- 
defying  cupidity  of  the  hotel-keepers  of  the  town 
alone,  the  government  having  provided  absolutely 
no  shelter.  These  huts  were  capable  of  housing  but 
thirty  out  of  the  hundred  sufferers  of  all  ranks,  shut 
up  together,  and  were,  of  course,  filled  to  suflbcation. 
It  would  excite  your  commiseration  to  learn,  how 
*  first  come'  was  'first  served,'  while  the  rest  had 
to  lie  on  the  grass  of  the  ramparts,  under  the  lee  of 
the  counterscarp,  or  wherever  they  could  ;  how, 
moreover,  it  rained  ;  how,  where  the  rats  gambolled 
in  long  undisturbed  possession  five  days  before,  milord 
and  milady  were  now  glad  to  lay  their  dainty  heads. 
The  scramble  for  beds  was  only  equalled  by  the 
scramble  for  board.  Sorrow,  but  not  surprise,  might 
be  elicited  on  reading  that  some  of  my  wise-headed 
countrymen  insulted  the  health-inspecting  dignitaries 
at  their  noontide  visit,  threatened  an  appeal  to  the 
British  government  for  the  national  outrage  perpe- 
trated on  our  sacred  persons,  and  that  in  consequence 
the  time  of  sorrow  was  lengthened  instead  of  abridged. 
You  would  have  been  amused  to  see  our  motley  band 
of  men  and  women,  of  all  nations  and  degrees,  English, 
French,  Belgians,  and  Americans ;  and  you  would 
have  marvelled  to  hear  how  the  English  maundered, 
grumbled,  and  groaned  together ;  to  see  the  Belgians 
play  at  dominoes  and  chuck-farthing  from  morning 
to  night ;  to  listen  to  the  French  singing,  smoking, 
and  jesting,  repeating  constantly  '  d  la  guerre  comme 
d  la  guerre;^  and,  lastly,  to  watch  the  American  lie 
from  morning  to  night  on  his  back  in  the  straw,  ab- 
stracted and  speculative,  with  the  rain  dropping  into 
his  ears. 

Moreover,  I  might  tell  you  how  my  post  was  upon 
the  seaward  bastion,  overlooking  the  comic  scene  of 
petty  misery  and  amusement  on  one  side,  and,  on  the 
other,  the  troubled  straits,  and  the  long  white  sea-wall 
of  my  own  land,  and  show  you  how  many  a  warm  and 


THE  VOYAGE. 


-  23 


anxious  thought  winged  its  way  thither — but  all  this  is 
foreign  to  my  present  purpose. 

The  same  observation  will  apply  to  any  detailed 
notice  of  my  release — journey  to  Paris — sojourn  there 
— and  final  departure  with  M.  de  Pourtales  from  the 
port  of  Havre  de  Grace,  in  the  second  week  in  April, 
in  company  with  Washington  Irving,  our  future  com- 
panion in  many  a  day's  adventure. 

A  voyage  to  America  is  no  longer  a  circumstance 
worth  signalizing  as  a  marvel.  It  is,  as  you  know, 
literally,  an  every-day  occurrence.  Hundreds,  nay, 
thousands  of  white  sails  now  bespangle  that  wide,  blue, 
and  restless  ocean,  which,  a  few  centuries  ago,  was,  in 
truth,  a  solitary  sea ;  and,  though  I  write  to  one  who 
was  never  yet  out  of  the  limits  of  the  British  Isles,  I 
cannot  persuade  myself  that  a  sheet  full  of  extracts 
from  ^*  my  log"  will  add  much  either  to  his  amusement 
or  instruction.  The  Havre,  such  was  the  name  of  the 
stout  New- York  packet-ship  in  which  we  sailed,  was  a 
fine  vessel,  in  no  whit  inferior  to  the  others  of  her  class 
in  build,  or  in  the  commodious  arrangement  of  her 
interior.  She  was  commanded  by  a  high-spirited, 
generous-hearted,  gentlemanly  seaman.  He  was  one 
whose  character  could  not  fail  to  impress  the  mind 
favourably  with  regard  to  the  service  and  land  to 
which  he  belonged.  He  was  accused,  but  wrongfully 
I  think,  of  having  a  tendency,  in  sailor's  phrase,  to 

spin  a  long  yarn'*  now  and  then,  or,  in  other  words, 
to  exaggerate.  You  may  contrive  to  swallow  a  tale  of 
considerable  size  at  sea.  We  were  upwards  of  two 
hundred  on  board,  and  of  these  one  hundred  and 
seventy  were  steerage  passengers. 

You  will  doubtless  know  that  on  a  prosperous  pas- 
sage,— and  such  in  fact  we  had,  though  not  a  quick  or 
a  direct  one — adverse  winds,  and  now  and  then  a  rough 
gale,  producing  a  fearful  destruction  of  the  ship's 
crockery, — extraordinary  sights  and  events  are  hardly 
to  be  looked  for.  A  week  or  two  was  sufficient  to 
make  us  "  au  fait,"  as  to  every  phase  of  our  position. 
The  ability  to  read,  with  any  degree  of  steadiness  on 


24  ^ 


THE  VOYAGE. 


ship-board,  is  not  granted  to  every  one,  and  I  must  say, 
that,  to  me,  a  voyage  is  in  that  respect  nearly  lost  time, 
The  study  of  character,  however,  both  of  rational  and 
irrational  beings  around  you,  may  afford  a  never-failing 
source  of  amusement,  and,  in  this  instance  was  truly 
such  to  us. 

None  of  us  have  forgotten  the  first  mate,  little  D., 
a  round;  fat,  good-humoured  man — an  off-set  of  the 
hardy  stock  of  Nantucket,  or  Martha's  Vinyard,  I 
forget  which — a  narrator  of  incredible  stories  about 
whales.  He  was  proud  of  bearing  the  same  patro- 
nymic as  a  ci-devant  president  of  Yale  College.  He 
had  scraped  a  good  deal  of  information  together,  and 
had  a  very  laudable  desire  to  add  to  the  stock — was 
much  given  to  walk  the  deck,  smoke,  and  philosophize ; 
and  was  altogether  an  unexceptionable  character, 
though  he  owned  that  he  had  been  bred  a  quaker,  but 
had  clipped  his  broad-brim  and  painted  it  white  the 
day  he  came  of  age.  The  young  second  mate  was  a 
special  favourite,  and  was  generally  called  "  right  and 
left because  if  he  saw  any  fight  among  either  sailors 
or  steerage  passengers,  he  dashed  into  it,  and  before 
asking  a  word  of  explanation,  just  knocked  down  the 
two  men  nearest  him.  Names,  descriptive  of  some 
peculiarity  in  form  or  manner,  were  soon  concocted  by 
our  little  knot  of  humorists,  for  all  the  more  noted 
characters  before  the  mast. 

The  position  of  the  poor  emigrants — men,  women  * 
and  children,  Jews,  French  and  Germans,  stowed 
a-midships — was  at  the  best  unpleasant.  As  long  as 
the  weather  was  fine,  matters  went  on  tolerably 
smoothly,  and  we  had  then  chirping  and  singing 
enough :  but  a  gale  set  them  all  at  loggerheads,  and 
rumours  of  fights  and  feuds  not  unfrequently  came 
aft.  Three  Frenchmen,  (Jews  and  sharpers  if  they 
were  not  maligned,)  seemed  to  be  just  so  many 
stumbling-blocks  to  the  honest  Germans ;  and  even 
the  quality  in  the  great  cabin  took  a  spite  against 
them.  One  of  their  number  from  his  oracular  and 
star-bleached  countenance,  was  dubbed  Sidrophel,  and 


THE  YOYAGE. 


it  was  whispered  that  they  conjured  up  bad  and  ad*- 
verse  winds.  The  majority  of  the  steerage  passengers 
were  Alsatians  and  Bavarians,  and  were  speeding,  with 
their  little  all  collected  around  them,  to  settle  in  a  new 
land.  They  were  most  of  them  musically  inclined, 
and  when  the  level  beams  of  the  sun  began  to  glance 
over  the  bows,  they  usually  gathered  in  a  knot  round 
the  mainmast,  and  sang  the  songs  of  their  native  land^ 
which  they  and  theirs  had  now  quitted  for  ever.  Many 
a  pleasant  hour  did  we  thus  spend,  as  our  vessel  was 
gently  heaving  beneath  us^  and  pressing  toward  the 
setting  sun. 

Of  our  more  immediate  companions,  1  say  nothing  : 
they  were  in  general  too  well  bred  to  excite  much  atten- 
tion. We  had  a  proportion  of  females  and  pretty 
<:hildren  among  their  number,  and  I  add  my  testimony 
to  that  of  many,  as  to  the  pleasant,  chastened,  and 
agreeable  air  which  their  presence  dispenses  on  ship'i^ 
boarde 

But  this  is  not  all— do  not  think  I  am  going  to 
pass  by  that  most  fertile  field  of  harmless  amusement, 
the  dumb  animals  on  board,  among  which  we  num^ 
bered  a  cow,  ass,  divers  pigs  ;  and  a  numerous,  but 
daily-decreasing  horde  of  ducks,  turkies,  geese,  and 
poultry—besides  a  snappish  pointer  with  two  whelps, 
and  a  setter  ;  not  to  forget  a  tom-cat,  several  canaries? 
and  last  but  not  least  in  favour,  a  mocking-bird, 

Tom  seldom  made  his  appearance  till  about  night- 
fall, and  then  he  might  be  seen  skulking  ^lily  along, 
close  under  the  shadow  of  the  spars  lashed  to  the  huh 
warks,  always  contriving,  however,  to  retreat  if  de-^ 
tected.  His  movements  were  never  quite  free  from 
suspicion— and  he  was  no  great  favourite  aft^  in  spite 
of  its  being  alleged,  in  excuse  of  his  vespernal  excur- 
sions to  our  end  of  the  ship,  that  the  mice  frequenting 
our  state-rooms  were  his  lawful  perquisite  i  and  it  was 
soon  found  that  Tom  had,  in  fact^  other  ends  in  view. 
It  was  remarked  that  he  had  taken  a  particular  fancy 
to  haunt  the  purlieus  of  the  large  wicker  cage  In  which 
our  little  musical  favourite,  the  mocking-bird^  wai 

VOL.  I*  3 


26 


THE  VOYAGE 


confined — in  preference  to  all  the  allurements  held  out 
to  his  attention  by  the  plumper  denizens  of  the  coop  : 
and  he  was  frequently  detected  in  its  immediate  vi- 
cinity, sitting  with  an  air  of  great  meekness,  eyes  half 
shut,  as  it  were,  quite  lost  to  the  world  in  sweet  en- 
trancement,  while  the  pretty  bird  poured  forth  its 
melody.  But  this  was  all  a  sham.  He  had  no  more 
ear  for  music  than  the  ship's  counter,  and,  in  fact,  he 
was  twice  discovered  in  the  attempt  to  make  a  meal 
of  our  playmate*  The  second  time  the  whole  cabio 
was  in  arms,  and  Tom  received  such  summary  punish- 
ment that  he  never  visited  the  round-house  again. 
We  thus  secured  the  merry  little  songster's  safety. 
The  latter  was  somewhat  capricious,  but  very  divert- 
ing— sang  like  the  canarj^  qiiacked  like  the  duck^ 
chirped  and  cackled  like  the  poultry,  mewed  like  the 
cat,  and  finally  tucked  his  little  wings  close  to  his  side,, 
and  looked  up  to  the  mainmast-head  like  the  Captain- 

I  have  told  you  that  our  voyage  was  protracted^ 
After  long  trying  to  make  our  way  to  the  northward^ 
we  stood  to  the  south  of  the  gulf-stream,  and  soon 
exchanged  bleak  blowing  weather  and  stormy  seas,  for 
gentle  breezes,  blue  skies,  and  tranquil  waters. 

I  cannot  forget  how  pleasingly  the  monotony  of  our 
voyage  was  broken  about  the  middle  of  May,  by  our 
coming  within  sight  of  the  Bermudas,  that  little  step- 
ping-stone in  the  vast  ocean  between  the  continents, 
and  how  every  animate  being  on  board  seemed  moved 
Vv^ith  the  aspect  and  atmosphere  of  the  land. 

To  cut  a  long  voyage  and  long  letter  short,  I  will 
close  by  noting  the  21st  of  May  as  the  day  when  the 
former  ended,  by  our  arriving  off  Sand}^  Hook,  with 
the  heights  of  Neversink  to  the  left,  Long  Island  to 
the  right,  and  the  deep  outer  bay  of' New- York  before 
us ;  and  when  the  sun  set  over  the  land,  our  ship  might 
be  seen  with  sails  furled  and  anchor  a-peak  rocking  on 
the  threshold  of  the  New  World. 

The  following  morning,  we  advanced  with  wind  and 
tide  through  the  outer  bay  and  the  Narrows,  till  abreast 


STATEN  ISLAND. 


27 


the  prettiest  quarantine  ground  under  the  sun,  and 
dropped  our  anchor  off  the  shore  of  Staten  Island, 

In  consequence  of  the  casual  indisposition  of  my 
comrade,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  stay  on  board  the 
Havre  for  a  few  days,  instead  of  accompanying  our 
fellow-passengers  to  the  city :  and  it  is  very  compre- 
hensible that  both  curiosity  and  six  weeks  imprisonment 
on  board,  made  me  glad  to  while  away  a  few  of  the 
hours  of  detention  in  a  ramble  on  the  green  shores  and 
wooded  heights^  which  were  directly  in  front  of  our 
anchor  a  ge« 


LETTER  III. 

The  New  World  !  You  may  imagine,  but  yoE 
cannot  feel  the  degree  of  curiosity  with  which  I  first 
set  foot  upon  it*  It  may  be  readily  granted  that  the 
emotion  of  interest  with  which  an  American  steps  upon 
the  shores  of  Europe,  must  be  of  a  higher  character; 
yet  to  me,  this  change  of  position  from  countries  where 
the  forms  of  external  nature  had  in  a  great  measure 
become  familiar,  and  lost  the  charm  of  novelty,  to 
another  in  which  she  was  to  appear  clothed  in  a  dif- 
ferent garb,  and  develope  other  phenomena,  w^as  never- 
theless an  epoch  in  my  existence.  It  was  the  renewal 
of  youth  and  boyhood.  Many  a  sensation,  to  which  I 
had  been  a  stranger  for  years*  returned  to  the  breast 
after  it  might  seem  to  have  left  me  for  ever.  I  felt  all 
that  excess  of  prying  curiosity  into  the  productions  of 
nature,  which  had  been  a  strong  principle  of  my  soul 
twenty  years  before,  when  we  used  to  explore  the  vallies 
of  the  Air,  Wharf,  and  Calder  in  concert,  bring  home 
pockets  stuffed  with  plants  and  stones,  and  heads  filled 
with  supposed  discoveries.  Such  they  were  indeed  to 
us.  These  fresh  and  natural  feelings  of  excitement, 
which  had  been  of  course  weakened  or  lost,  when  every 


28 


STATEN  ISLAND, 


object  had  become  familiar,  and  there  were  no  more 
discoveries  to  make,  now  stimulated  me  as  warmly  as 
ever ;  and  while  eagerly  examining  every  tree,  shrub, 
bud,  and  reptile,  that  came  across  my  path  during  my 
first  solitary  stroll,  I  could  almost  smile  at  my  boyish 
and  buoyant  feelingo 

The  spring  had  been  tardy  in  appearance,  and  un- 
friendly in  its  character ;  yet  as  I  rose  from  the  margin 
of  the  bay,  and  surmounted  the  first  slope,  covered 
with  the  straggling  village,  the  lively  green  of  the  enclo- 
sures, the  blossoming  peach,  and  other  trees,  and  the 
budding  forest  were  all  delightful  to  the  eye  after  the 
monotony  of  the  ocean*    The  scenery  presented  by  the 
outer  Bay  of  New-York  is  not  striking,  and  however 
we  had  been  pleased  to  approach  the  green  shores,  and 
gaze  upon  the  fixed  and  firm  land,  we  had  hardly  been 
able  to  chime  in  with  the  enthusiastic  expressions  of 
admiration  uttered  by  our  American  fellow-passengers, 
as  we  sailed  up  the  Bay,  at  the  peculiar  beauty  of  their 
native  country.    Yet,  when,  after  an  interrupted  climb, 
I  gained  the  bightest  point  of  the  wooded  range  above 
the  Narrows,  and  looked  forth  upon  the  wide  extended 
view  then  spread  before  me,  I  did  them  justice.  The 
knoll  upon  which  I  stood  rose  above  the  wooded  skirts 
of  the  hills,  and  immediately  overlooked  the  Narrows  to 
the  right,  with  its  forts,  and  the  long,  green,  cultivated 
shores  of  Long  Island  beyond.    To  the  south-west  the 
eye  gained  a  glimpse,  over  the  back  of  the  Island,  of 
the  strait  separating  it  from  the  main  shore  of  New 
Jersey,  the  undulating  outline  of  which  formed  the 
horizon  in  that  direction.    Directly  over  the  village 
below,  rising  with  its  clean  white  edifices  on  the  mar- 
gin of  the  Bay,  you   saw  spread  before  you,  the 
capacious  inner  harbour,  with  the  distant  city,  and  the 
entrance  to  the  Hudson,  stretching  far  inland  in  the 
perspective,  a  broad  expanse  of  water  dotted  with  in- 
numerable sails.    The  wind  was  fair  for  the  passage 
of  the  Narrows,  and  many  a  noble  ship  was  passing  the 
Quarantine  ground,  and  steering  under  their  white  cloud 
of  canvass  for  the  distant  outlet  into  the  Ocean,  which 


BAY  OF  NEW  YORK. 


29 


appeared  distinctly  to  the  southward,  over  the  long,  low 
point  of  Sandy  Hook,  The  feature  of  the  landscape, 
whose  mere  outlines  I  have  portrayed,  were  quite 
devoid  of  boldness  of  character,  but  they  were  such  as 
to  impress  me  greatly. 

And  it  may  here  be  observed,  that  when  exactly  two 
years  after,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  we  again  en- 
tered the  same  port  on  returning  from  Vera  Cruz, 
having  in  the  interval  penetrated  into  every  part  of  the 
Union,  and  latterly  gazed  upon  many  a  scene  of  tro- 
pical and  mountain  magnificence  in  Mexico,  I  was 
anew  constrained  to  admit  the  propriety  of  the  epithet 
"  beautifid,"  being  attached  to  the  Bay  of  New  York. 
That  is  its  characteristic,  whether  the  observer  looks 
down  upon  it  from  the  elevated  point  I  had  chosen,  or 
from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  city.  And  yet  it  is 
difficult  to  define  where  the  main  charm  lies.  The 
aspect  of  the  latter  is  far  from  being  picturesque  on  a 
near  approach.  You  see  a  long  line  of  level  wharves, 
and  slips  crowded  by  endless  tiers  of  shipping,  and 
tall  brick  warehouses  peering  over  them  ;  a  few 
uninteresting  church-steeples  rearing  themselves  from 
the  central  parts  of  the  city,  which  rises  so  gradually 
from  the  water's  edge,  that,  at  a  distance,  it  seems  to 
be  built  on  a  dead  flat.  There  is  neither  beauty  nor 
sublimity  in  such  an  object.  Then  the  adjacent  shores 
of  Long  Island  and  New  Jersey  opposite,  though  well 
w^ooded,  are  not  particularly  bold  ;  the  small  low 
islands  scattered  over  the  nearer  portions  of  the  Bay, 
are  far  from  being  either  well  clothed,  or  dignified  by 
handsome  structures ;  the  swelling  back  of  Staten 
Island,  is  too  distant  to  form  a  prominent  object  in  the 
landscape  ;  still,  come  from  what  quarter  you  may, 
you  are  struck  with  the  air  of  beauty. 

Much  is  doubtless  to  be  attributed  to  the  extreme 
mellowness  and  transparency  of  the  atmosphere,  which 
gives  colour  to  every  object  on  land  or  water.  In  this, 
the  climate  of  New  York  is  truly  Italian.  There  is  a 
freshness  in  the  verdure  that  covers  the  sloping  and 
gentle  shores,  a  harmony  in  the  outlines, — and  above 

3* 


30 


NfiW  YORK. 


all,  there  is  a  life  in  the  aquatic  scenery^  which  I  never 
witnessed  elsewhere  in  an  equal  degree.  An  air  of 
gaiety  and  festal  enjoyment,  which  contrasts  singularly 
with  the  unholiday  appearance  of  men  and  things  in 
the  interior  of  the  country,  reigns  on  the  waters  of  the 
bays  and  rivers,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  cities,  lo  a  sur^ 
prising  degree. 

At  all  times  of  the  tide,  at  every  hour  of  the  day, 
whatever  may  be  the  wind,  the  Bay  and  its  outlets 
appear  alive  with  craft  and  shipping,  from  the  dark 
mass  of  the  frigate,  or  line-of-battle  ship,  which  often 
lie  moored  abreast  of  the  city,  and  the  colossal  steam- 
boats hourly  seen  careering  over  its  surface,  to  the 
light  skilfully-managed  wherry  of  the  Whitehaller. 

But  we  will  not  for  the  present  linger  in  New  York,, 
where  I  only  passed  a  single  week  subsequent  to 
landing.  This  city,  and  its  rivals  on  the  waters  of  the 
Atlantic,  have  been  frequently  described,  and  they  may 
therefore  be  passed  over  with  few  remarks. 

The  acquaintance  which  my  comrade  and  myself 
had  begun  with  Mr.  Irving  at  Havre,  and  cemented 
on  ship-board,  was  resumed  ashore,  and  led  to  that 
series  of  common  projects  and  common  wanderings, 
which  kept  us  bound  together  as  a  trio  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  summer  and  autumn  of  this  year.  To  him 
all  was  new  again,  after  seventeen  years'  absence  from, 
his  native  countrya 

The  month  of  June  was  employed  in  visiting  Phila- 
delphia, Baltimore,  and  Washington,  previous  to  the 
assumption  of  our  more  extended  projects  for  the 
summer. 

The  arrangements  for  public  convenience  in  travel- 
ling by  steam-boat  and  rail-roadj  along  the  whole  line 
of  interior  communication,  from  Rhode  Island  into  the 
very  heart  of  Virginia,  demand  the  admiration  of  every 
stranger,  and  that  of  an  Englishman  more  than  any 
other,  he  being  of  all  travellers,  the  most  impatient  and 
unable  to  endure  the  loss  of  precious  time  with  equa- 
nimity. Each  of  the  cities  named,  though  resembling 
each  other  in  many  pointSj.  has  its  own  distinctiye 


NEW  YORK. 


31 


iiiarks.  New  York  is  the  most  bustling ;  Philadelphia 
the  most  symmetrical ;  Baltimore  the  most  picturesque  ; 
and  Washington  the  most  bewildering^ 

At  New  York  you  pass  hours  w  ith  delight  under  the 
trees  on  that  beautiful  breezy  promenade,  which  the 
good  taste  of  the  citizens  has  preserved  at  the  extreme 
point  of  their  island.  You  follow  the  example  of  more 
illustrious  travellers  in  doing  justice  to  the  ample  tables 
of  your  hotel  or  friendsj  not  forgetting  to  pass  judgment 
on  rock  fish,  American  oysters,  and  above  all,  on  shad 
fish,  if  in  seasouo  You  enjoy  many  a  stroll  along  the 
gay  and  cheerful  pavement  of  Broadway,  the  principal 
street,  running  for  miles  through  the  heart  of  the  ciiy^ 
with  its  handsome  edifices,  shops,  and  public  buildings. 
You  admire  the  commodious  disposition  of  the  interior 
of  family  mansions,  with  their  folding-doors,  clean, 
cool,  indian-matted  floors,  and  the  groups  of  pretty 
faces  by  which  they  are  adorned.  You  marvel  at  the 
incessant  bustle  and  proofs  of  flourishing  commerce 
visible  in  all  the  narrower  streets  devoted  to  business, 
diverging  right  and  left  toward  the  North  and  East 
rivers  ;  and  on  the  crowded  slips  and  wharves.  You 
step  into  a  steam-boat,  and  cross  over  to  Brooklyn,  or 
to  the  Jersey  shore,  where  you  may  immediately  bury 
yourself  in  the  delicious  walks  of  Hoboken,  where 
ihe  squirrel  climbs  as  free,  and  apparently  as  undis* 
turbed  among  the  grape-vines,  as  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest.  You  glance  up  the  Hudson,  which  laves  the 
grassy  margin  of  the  promenade,  and  see  him  walled 
in  by  the  perpendicular  pallisadoes  and  green  shores 
of  Manhattan  Island,  covered  with  sloops  and  steamers 
— and  own  that  in  your  brightest  moment  of  fancy, 
you  never  dreamed  of  the  creation  of  an  equally  glo- 
rious river,  or  a  city  whose  position  is  more  strongly 
marked  by  all  those  characteristics  which  are  desirable 
in  a  great  commercial  emporium.  Returning,  you 
iiear  the  cry  of  fire,  and  repair  to  the  scene  of  disaster, 
but  go  home  disappointed,  because  you  find  that  the 
good  people  of  New  York  never  give  a  fire  a  fair 
chance,  but  knock  down  the  house  to  preserve  it  from 


32 


PHILADELPHIA. 


the  flames.  You  walk  out  on  a  Sunday  evening,  and 
are  fairly  elbowed  into  the  gutter  by  the  broad- spread 
bonnets  and  gigots  de  mouton  of  the  sable  beauties, 
who,  with  their  beaux,  have  then  the  possession  of  the 
pavement. 

At  Philadelphia,  the  city  of  Brotherly  Love,"  you 
are  struck  with  the  regularity  of  the  streets, — their 
numberless  handsome  mansions, — the  lavish  use  of 
white  and  gray  marble, — pleasant  avenues  and  squares, 
— noble  public  institutions, — markets, — the  abundance 
of  water, — and  the  general  attention  to  dress  visible  in 
♦  every  one  you  meet.  As  in  New  York  and  Baltimore, 
you  are  surprised  with  the  great  proportion  of  hand- 
some female  faces,  and  delicately  moulded  forms  which 
crowd  the  public  walks  and  saloons,  like  so  many 
sweet  fresh  May  flowers.  You  make  the  usual  visits 
right  or  left,  dictated  by  taste  or  reverence ;  including 
the  romantic  scene  at  Fairmount,  and  the  spot  where 
the  celebrated  treaty  was  concluded  between  Penn  and 
the  Delawares;  and  you  taste  that  hospitality  and 
frank  unostentatious  kindness  which,  with  all  their 
faults,  proved  or  imputed,  the  American  ever  ofiers  to 
a  stranger  who  conducts  himself  courteously. 

At  Baltimore,  the  city  of  Monuments,"  snugly 
sheltered  within  its  deep  bay,  and  rising  from  an  oblong 
basin  of  the  Patapsco  toward  the  amphitheatre  of 
wooded  hills  on  the  west,  you  marvel  to  hear  how, 
from  a  period  of  time  within  the  memory  of  some  yet 
living,  the  small  village  of  a  dozen  houses  has  sprung 
up  into  a  large  capital,  overspreading  an  extended  area, 
abounding  with  noble  public  and  private  edifices,  and 
possessing  an  increasing  commerce  with  every  port 
under  the  sun.  You  admire  the  neat  style  of  building, 
— the  bustle  of  the  Bay, — the  beauty  of  the  shipping, 
— and  the  lovely  scenery  in  the  environs.  You  wel- 
come a  southern  climate  in  the  perfume  of  many 
odorous  flowers,  and,  more  than  all,  the  delightful 
society  for  which  Maryland  is  pre-eminent — frank, 
polished  and  unafiected. 

At  Washington,    the  city  of  magnificent  distances," 


BALTIMORE. 


with  the  haste  and  eagerness  of  a  new  comer  you  visit 
the  lions  ascend  to  the  capitol ;— criticize  its  archi- 
tecture, whether  properly  authorized  to  do  so  or  not, — 
listen  to  the  proceedings  in  either  House  for  an  hour 
or  two, — pay  your  respects  to  the  President,^ — visit  the 
country-seat  and  grave  of  our  great  and  good  opponent 
Washington.  You  plan,  but  do  not  execute,  an  excur- 
sion to  the  Falls  of  the  Potomac, — get  more  and  more 
bewildered  with  the  study  of  the  city,  which  seems  to 
have  been  contrived  with  an  eye  for  the  especial  ad- 
vantage of  the  hackney  coachmen  ;— get  squeezed  out 
of  all  equanimity  at  a  Presidential  levee  ; — retain  your 
appetite,  but  lose  your  pcitience  at  a  scram.bling  dinner 
at  Gadsby's  Hotel,~and  finally  retrace  your  steps  to 
Baltimore  as  we  did,  with  a  resolution  not  to  return  to 
Washington  till  there  should  be  a  less  suffocating  heat 
in  the  places  of  public  resort,  less  dust  in  Pennsylvania 
avenue,  more  water  in  the  Tiber,  and  more  elbow-room 
in  the  hotels. 

I  have,  however,  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  our 
first  impressions,  of  America,  were  everyway  pleasings 
both  as  to  men  and  things.  We  saw  the  country  and 
the  society  under  the  best  auspices ;  and  the  season  at 
which  we  made  our  fi^rst  journey,  was  also  one  which 
naturally  incited  us  to  contented  enjoyment. 

In  returning  northward,  we  made  a  halt  of  a  fort- 
night in  Baltimore  and  its  neighbourhood.  Many 
of  the  country-seats  which  stud  the  environs  upon 
the  upland  slope,  at  various  points  and  distances 
from  the  city,  are  singularly  well-situated  and  taste- 
fully arranged  ;  and  I  look  back  with  unalloyed 
gratification  to  the  hours  spent  among  them,  and 
the  hospitality  there  enjoyed.  Rural  fetes  are  ordi- 
narily given  in  these  villas  at  this  beautiful  season 
of  the  year,  when  every  tree  and  shrub  appears  in 
its  freshest  green,  and  every  natural  object  cites  to 
amusement  and  recreation. 

The  numberless  white  four-petalled  flowers  of 
the  dog-wood,  which  we  had  left,  in  the  latitude 
of  New  York,  in  full  beauty,  had,  it  is  true,  become 


34 


BALTIMORE. 


discoloured,  and  half  hidden  by  the  green  foliage 
which  they  precede;  but  the  catalpa  was  in  blossom 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  country-seats ;  the  shrubberies 
were  in  their  beauty,  and  on  the  margin  of  the  forest, 
which  generally  thickened  to  the  back  of  these  villas, 
the  evening  air  was  perfumed  with  the  rich  odour  of 
the  magnolia,  whose  snow-white  blossom  peeped  out 
from  its  covert  of  glossy  leaves.  A  thousand  beautiful 
trees,  either  transported  from  their  concealment  in 
the  woods,  or  tastefully  preserved  for  the  purposes  of 
ornament,  surrounded  the  lawns  in  front  of  the  open 
colonnade. 

It  was  not  till  my  return  to  Europe,  in  the  height 
of  summer,  after  a  very  short  passage,  that  I  was 
struck  with  the  totally  different  character  of  the  ver- 
dure, both  of  the  field  and  forest,  on  the  two  Con- 
tinents. After  the  bright  sward,  and  the  varied  sum- 
mer foliage  of  the  Western  woods,  with  their  great 
ponderance  of  light  greens,  the  English  landscape 
seemed  to  exhibit  nothing  but  evergreens,  such  was 
the  depth  of  shade  observable  in  the  blue  verdure 
of  the  rounded  and  heavy  masses  of  foliage,  of  our 
ordinary  forest  trees,  and  on  the  dark  and  thick  mea- 
dow grass  of  our  humid  climate. 

A  few  hours  before  sunset,  the  different  visitors 
generally  assembled,  by  far  the  greater  number  con- 
sisting of  the  young  and  unmarried  of  both  sexes, 
under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  tables  were  covered 
with  the  delicacies  of  the  season, — among  which  the 
delicious  fruit,  from  which  these  Strawberry  Parties 
took  their  name,  was  ordinarily  seen  in  the  greatest 
profusion,  with  its  appropriate  concomitants  of  cream 
and  champagne.  Many  an  enchanting  spectacle  of 
natural  beauty  and  human  contentment  and  pleasure, 
have  I  observed  spread  before  me,  while  sitting  in 
the  portico  of  one  of  these  rural  retreats,  as  the  sun 
sunk  slowly  to  its  setting.  The  view  from  many  of 
them  commanded  a  wide  prospect,  to  the  south-east, 
over  the  forests  and  fine  undulating  slopes  of  the  coun- 
try in  the  direction  of  the  city,  whose  domes  and 


BALTIMORE. 


35 


edifices  peered  over  the  woods,  or  were  descried  bor- 
dering the  irregular  lake-like  divisions  of  the  river. 
More  remote,  lay  the  wider  bay  of  the  Patapsco,  glis- 
tening with  white  sails,  merging  far  in  the  distance 
into  the  broad  Chesapeake  ;  the  long  promontory  of 
North  Point,  with  its  light-houses  glistening  in  the 
sunshine  ;  and,  beyond  all,  the  hardly  perceptible 
thread  of  gold  which  marked  the  utmost  limit  of  the 
horizon,  and  the  eastern  shore  of  Maryland. 

If  to  this  noble  view  you  add  as  a  foreground, 
the  sweet  intermingling  forest,  lawn,  and  shrubbery 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  dwelling,  with  the 
gay  and  graceful  groups  scattered  over  it ;  you  would 
own  with  me,  that  you  had  rarely  gazed  upon  scenes 
so  truly  beautiful  and  guilelessly  cheerful  ;  so  ani- 
mated, so  full  of  innocent  pleasure,  and  so  devoid  of 
false  glitter  and  glare,  as  those  presented  by  the 
Maryland  Strawberry  Parties.    Later  comes  the  brief 
but  beautiful  twilight,  with  the  wailing  cry  of  the 
whip-poor-will,  the  flight  of   the  night-hawk,  and 
above  all,  myriads  of  fire-flies  filling  the  air  with 
sparks,  dancing  in  the  deep  shade,  or  streaming  with 
their  intermittent  and  gentle  light  among  the  groups, 
as  they  stroll  in  the  open  air,  or  sit  in  the  porticoes. 

The  frank  manners  and  uncontrolled  intercourse 
between  the  young  people  of  both  sexes,  and  the 
confidence  with  which  they  are  on  all  occasions  left  to  ^ 
their  own  discretion,  form  one  remarkable  feature  in 
American  society,  and  one  that  must  strike  every 
European.    Unattended  as  this  open  confidence  has 
hitherto  been,  with  perhaps   the  rarest  exceptions, 
by  unpleasant  results,  it  is  a  proof  that  thus  far  the 
society  of  the  New  World  has  an  advantage  over 
that  of  the  Old,  where  circumstances  throw  such  difii- 
culties  in  the  way  of  most  early  marriages  ;  where  the 
poison  of  libertinism  is  more  generally  difliised,  and 
where  the  whole  structure  of  society  warrants  the  most 
jealous  care  in  the  parent,  and  the  utmost  caution  and 
reserve  on  the  part  of  the  daughter. 

Though  compared  with  future  tours,  a  short  excur- 


36  POINT  OF  ROCKS. 

sion  we  made  from  Baltimore  daring  this  interval, 
may  sink  into  insignificance  ;  yet  as  it  was  the  first 
which  led  us  away  to  any  distance  from  the  coast,  it 
may  not  inaptly  find  a  corner  before  I  conclude  my 
third  sheet  to  you.  This  was  a  visit  to  the  Point  of 
Rocks  on  the  Potomac,  and  the  village  of  Harper's 
Ferry,  at  the  junction  of  that  river  with  another  off* 
spring  of  the  wooded  Alleghany,  the  Shenandoah, 
which,  in  the  upper  part  of  its  course,  waters  the 
lovely  valley  of  Virginia.  The  celebrated  rail-road, 
planned  with  an  object  of  forming  a  junction  with  the 
waters  of  the  Chesapeake  and  the  Ohio,  had  then 
already  been  carried  as  far  as  the  Potomac,  upward 
of  seventy  miles  from  the  city  of  Baltimore,  and  in  the 
first  part  of  its  course  up  the  varied  and  beautiful  glen 
of  the  Patapsco,  presents  scenes  of  great  and  peculiar 
beauty. 

The  spirit  with  which  such  gigantic  undertakings 
are  conceived,  the  millions  furnished  for  their  pro- 
secution, and  the  immense  works  which  they  render 
necessary,  carried  forward  by  private  companies,  often 
without  even  the  assistance  of  a  loan  from  the  State 
Governments,  are  worthy  of  great  admiration.  None 
is  more  so  than  that  displayed  in  the  prosecution  of  the 
rail-road  in  question,  which  is  conducted  by  bridges, 
viaducts  of  massive  granite,  deep  excavations,  em« 
bankments  of  great  extent  and  height,  for  seven  miles 
to  the  entrance  of  the  more  confined  valley  of  the 
Patapsco,  through  which  it  subsequently  winds,  fol^ 
lowing  the  curvature  of  the  precipitous  and  rocky  hills 
on  both  sides  for  many  miles,  till  it  reaches  the  divid- 
ing-ridge between  the  waters  of  that  river,  and  the 
tributaries  of  the  Potomac.  Here,  forty  miles  from 
the  city,  you  ascend  the  first  inclined  plane,  of  which 
there  are  two  on  each  side,  and  over  which  you  are 
conducted  by  a  stationary  engine.  Fourteen  miles 
from  the  western  slope  of  the  planes,  the  rail-road 
traverses  the  Monocacy  valley,  and  a  few  miles  farther 
you  see  the  forested  ridges  of  the  Catoctin  mountains, 
and  the  broad  stream  of  the  Potomac  opening  before 
you. 


HARPER'S  FERRY. 


37 


At  the  time  when  we  made  this  excursion,  the  traffic 
and  the  arrangements  on  this  newly-constructed  work 
were  in  their  infancy,  and  a  few  rude  barracks  put  up 
here  and  there  in  close  proximity  to  the  forest,  were 
but  slender  indications  of  the  changes  about  to  be  ef- 
fected along  its  line  ;  but  long  before  we  quitted  the 
country,  a  large  village  with  hotels  and  w^arehouses  had 
sprung  up  at  the  Point  of  Rocks ;  the  traffic  upon  the 
rail-road  was  incessant ;  locomotive  engines  took  the 
place  of  horse-power  ;  and  hamlets  sprung  up  along  its 
line.  The  natural  resources  of  the  country  began  to 
be  available;  the  inexhaustible  stores  of  the  finest 
granite,  iron-ore,  and  breccia,  which  lay  on  its  very 
path  were  conveyed  to  the  city ;  roads  sprung  up  to 
communicate  with  it,  and  it  was  gradually  advancing 
into  the  recesses  of  the  Alleghany,  side  by  side  with  a 
canal  commenced  at  the  city  of  Washington,  with  the 
same  ulterior  object. 

At  Harper's  Ferry,  where  the  two  combined  streams 
before  mentioned,  have  apparently  burst  their  way 
through  the  Blue  Ridge,  as  the  advanced  chain  of  the 
many  parallel  and  continuous  ridges  of  the  Apalla- 
chian  series  is  called,  the  scenery  is  deservedly 
termed  romantic.  The  precipitous  and  wooded  accli- 
vities of  the  mountains  overhang  the  wide  beds  of 
two  noble  streams,  both  interrupted  by  a  long  chain 
of  rapids.  The  picturesque  village  is  situated  at  the  | 
point  of  junction  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  acclivity.  A 
long  wooden  bridge,  resting  on  stone  piers,  traverses 
the  united  volume  of  water  immediately  below,  and  a 
mile  lower  down,  the  whole,  roaring  over  the  Bull's 
Ring  rapid,  rushes  impetuously  through  the  Gap.  The 
scene  presented  from  the  crest  of  the  mountain  above 
the  village,  of  the  course  of  the  rivers  both  before 
and  after  their  junction,  is  one  of  the  most  striking 
in  the  United  States.  The  channel  of  the  Shenandoah 
to  the  right,  appears  obstructed  by  low  reefs  of  slate 
rock,  as  far  as  it  is  visible,  and  that  of  the  Potomac  to 
the  left,  furrowed  by  rapids  and  broken  by  wooded 
islands.  The  mountains  overhanging  both  vallies, 
VOL.  I.  4 


38  POTOMAC. 

are  rocky  and  well  wooded,  and  present  fine  pic* 
turesque  scenery  along  the  course  of  the  two  canals, 
which  have  been  constructed  for  the  distance  of  a 
mile  up  each  for  the  convenience  of  the  manufactories 
of  carbines  and  muskets,  established  here  by  the  Ge- 
neral Government,  allured  by  the  defensible  character 
of  the  position,  the  vicinity  of  coal,  and  great  '  water- 
power.'  The  arms  furnished  by  this  manufactory,  and 
another  in  Massachusetts,  supply  the  whole  Union- 
Neatness  and  economy  seem  to  characterize  every  de-- 
jDartment. 

Our  return  to  the  Point  of  Rocks  on  the  Potomac^ 
gave  us  a  first  introduction  to  American  river-scenery. 
The  mode  of  conveyance  was  a  boat,  about  seventy 
feet  in  length,  manned  by  a  mulatto  captain,  and  six  or 
seven  coloured  men.  Its  movements  were  directed  by 
a  large  oar  at  either  end.  These  dusky  fellows  are 
bred  to  their  business,  and  under  their  guidance  the 
unwieldy  machine  shot  like  lightning  through  the 
passes  of  the  BuH's  Ring  rapid^  and  among  the  many 
islands  which  deck  the  surface  of  this  River  of  the 
w^oods,"  a  name  which  it  w^ell  deserves.  Once  at  the 
Point  of  Rocks,  the  rail-road  carriages  conveyed  us  on 
our  return  to  the  city. 

Various  shorter  excursions  and  visits  occupied  the 
remainder  of  the  month — none  more  interesting  and 
delightful  than  that  of  a  few  days  to  the  Manor,  the 
seat  of  Charles  Carroll,  of  Carrollton,  the  only  survi- 
ving subscriber  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  ^ 
— a  venerable  and  polished  gentleman  of  the  old 
school,  drawing  toward  the  close  of  a  long  and  active 
life,  and  an  object  of  the  respect  and  love  of  the  whole 
country.  We  often  recalled  the  events  of  this  visits 
with  interest,  as,  before  our  return  from  our  long  ex- 
cursion westward,  he  too  had  passed  away  from  among 
the  living.  The  simple  fact  of  such  individuals  as 
himself,  Washington,  Hamilton,  and  others,  of  their 
known  character  and  excellence  in  private  life,  having 
eventually  taken  a  share  in  eflecting  the  separation  of 
the  colonies  from  the  mother  country,  was  sufiicient  tOs 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCENERY.  39 

make  me  feel  desirous  to  look  into  the  causes.  There 
were  faults  on  both  sides,  doubtless  ;  but  of  one  thing 
I  have  become  convinced,  that  the  convulsion  which 
separated  us,  was  quite  as  painful  to  the  one  as  to  the 
other,  and  little  desired  or  anticipated  by  thousands  in 
America,  till  necessity  and  the  course  of  events  left  no 
other  choice. 

Immediately  upon  my  return,  and  that  of  my  two 
companions,  from  our  trip  southward  at  the  close  of 
June,  we  made  conjointly,  an  excursion  up  the  Hudson 
river,  and  to  the  Kaatskill  mountains,  lingering  for  a 
few  days  by  the  way,  in  a  delightful  retreat,  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Highlands. 

If,  after  having,  with  one  exception,  visited  every 
State  and  Territory  in  the  Union,  I  might  feel  myself 
authorized  to  form  a  judgment,  I  should  venture  the 
opinion,  that  the  United  States,  taken  as  a  whole,  are 
far  from  possessing  a  fair  proportion  of  what  we  should 
term  picturesque  scenery.  Italy,  Switzerland,  Spain, 
our  own  group  of  Islands,  and  Germany,  have,  in  their 
character  and  accessories,  those  details  which  render 
them  essentially  picturesque;  not  only  because  the 
works  of  man,  by  which  they  are  thickly  diversified, 
have  made  them  so,  but  because  the  natural  disposition 
of  the  surface — broken  ground,  bare  rock,  wood, 
water,  verdure,  mountains  and  vallies,  alternating  in 
quick  succession — has  stamped  that  peculiar  character 
upon  them.  But  the  abrupt  outlines  of  surface,  so 
usual  in  the  Old  World,  and  the  interminable  inter- 
change of  the  various  elements  of  the  picturesqiie,  are 
of  much  rarer  occurrence  in  the  New.  I  use  the  epi- 
thet in  its  proper  sense.  It  is  in  vain  to  look  for  its 
common  occurrence  in  the  vast  alluvial  tracts  of  forest 
and  prairie  in  the  immense  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  or 
in  the  regions  of  the  same  geological  formation  extend- 
ing from  New  Jersey,  between  the  Alleghany  and  the 
Atlantic,  to  the  Cape  of  Florida.  You  would  not  ex- 
pect to  find  it  as  an  ordinary  character  of  the  long 
parallel,  rarely  broken,  and  forested  ridges,  and  the 
intervening  vallies,  which,  under  a  variety  of  names, 


40 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCENERY. 


divide  the  waters  of  the  East  from  those  of  the  West. 
It  is  hardly  to  be  met  with  in  the  undulating,  richly 
cultivated  central  districts  of  Pennsylvania,  New  York, 
or  Maryland.  Even  in  the  New  England  States, 
though  more  rocky,  and  broken,  more  cut  up  by  inter- 
nal lakes,  and  under  longer  cultivation  than  the 
Southern  and  Western,  1  should  be  sorry  to  under- 
take a  solitary  pedestrian  journey,  trusting  to  the 
charms  and  variety  of  the  scenery  to  while  away  fatigue 
or  ennui.  In  a  continent  where  the  forest  still  covers 
so  large  a  portion  of  both  mountain  and  plain,  where 
the  undisturbed  ribs  of  rock  are  hidden  within  the 
mountain  sides  by  the  swelling  and  even  outlines  of  the 
mould,  protected  and  increased  by  the  forests  of  ages, 
there  must  be  monotony. 

Again,  what  nature  has  to  a  certain  degree  denied, 
man  has  hitherto  done  but  little  to  remedy.  As  to 
ancient  architecture,  it  is  not  necessary  to  remind  you 
that  there  is  none  ;  the  styles  of  building  usually 
adopted  in  the  United  States,  however  commodious 
and  pretty,  or  adapted  to  the  different  climates,  have 
rarely  any  thing  picturesque  about  them.  The  first 
operations  of  the  settler  in  the  primeval  forest  are  pro- 
ductive of  a  deformity  which  years  can  scarcely 
remove. 

Still  you  must  not  misunderstand  me.  Though  you 
cannot,  in  speaking  of  these  vast  regions,  say  that  the 
general  character  of  their  scenery  is  picturesque, — yet 
go  more  into  detail,  and  you  will  find,  though  they 
may  be  far  apart,  scenes  of  the  most  exquisite  natural 
beauty,  fully  justifying  the  application  of  that  epithet. 
The  course  of  the  Hudson  abounds  with  them  from  its 
source  till  it  meets  the  ocean.  Range  all  the  world 
over  and  you  will  never  see  a  more  lovely  valley  than 
that  of  the  Mohawk  throughout  its  whole  extent ;  or 
sweeter  scenes  than  those  reflected  in  the  bright  waters 
of  Lake  George  and  its  neighbours.  Such  are  many 
of  the  slopes  and  vales  in  the  broken  country  on  both 
sides  of  the  Alleghany ; — the  frequent  Gaps  burst 
through  the  several  chains,  through  which  the  redun- 


CHAllACTEillSTlCS  OF  SCENERY.  41 

daiit  streams  roll  down  over  the  rapids  toward  the 
lower  country many  of  the  scenes  on  the  upper 
coasts  of  New  England,  and  none  more  so  than  the 
rarely  visited  and  rarely-mentioned  Portland.  The 
upper  Mississippi,  from  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  where 
the  mighty  river  pours  down  from  an  elevated  region 
of  marsh  and  lakes,  to  its  junction  with  the  Missouri, 
abounds  in  picturesque  scenery.  Many  parts  of  Michi- 
gan lay  a  claim  to  be  included,  and  other  isolated 
instances  might  be  cited  as  my  memory  retraces  the 
steps  of  the  last  two  or  three  years. 

But  do  not  suppose  that  for  the  rest  there  is  no 
charm  ; — that  there  is  nothing  in  the  Western  world  to 
make  up  for  the  deficiency  of  this  pleasing  attribute. 
There  is  a  character  to  which  it  may  proudly  lay  claim 
in  the  face  of  the  East,  and  that  is,  sublimity.  I  know 
what  you  would  say — I  never  forget  the  Alps  and  their 
majesty,  but  they  stand  almost  alone. 

Get  to  the  summit  of  the  Alleghany,  and  look  out 
upon  the  dark  mantle  of  primeval  forest  clothing  the 
swelling  ridges  which  roll  toward  the  deep  blue  hori- 
zon, rising  and  falling  like  the  tempest-stirred  ocean  ; 
— bury  yourself  in  their  recesses  among  the  giant 
trees; — look  forth  on  her  vast  estuaries,  her  ocean- 
lakes,  and  bays  indenting  the  shores  for  hundreds 
of  miles,  sparkling  in  the  sunbeams,  or  reflecting  the 
deep  blue  of  heaven  through  her  own  transparent 
atmosphere  ; — stand  upon  her  boundless  prairies 
stretching  to  the  westward,  a  thousand  miles  of  un- 
broken grassy  meadow,  bespangled  with  flowers  of 
every  hue,  where  no  hand  ever  reaps,  no  finger  ever 
€ulls,  and  but  few  feet  ever  tread  ;— sail  over  her  inland 
seas  in  calm  or  storm,  and  know^  yourself,  though  sur- 
rounded by  the  watery  horizon  for  hours,  in  the  centre 
of  a  continent!  Then  mark  her  numberless  rivers, 
whether  thousands  of  miles  from  their  bourne  in  the 
Ocean,  spreading  under  your  eye  a  broad  moving 
mirror  of  shining  water  in  the  vast  solitude  of  the 
silent  forests  ;  boiling  down  a  rapid  for  miles  as  white 

as  snow  ;  contracted  among  their  poplar  islands  to  a 

4# 


42  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCENERY. 

torrent — or  yet  nearer  their  estuary,  amidst  the  culti- 
vated fields  of  the  lower  and  more  thickly  inhabited 
lands,  when  the  accumulated  waters  of  a  thousand 
streams  press  on  in  one  wide  reach  after  the  other,  and 
expand  into  broad  tide-stirred  bays  ere  they  finally 
merge  in  the  great  deep. 

Well  may  America  be  proud  of  such  scenes.  All 
bear  the  impress  of  sublimity.  The  feelings  which 
they  convey  to  the  human  mind  may  be  less  pleasing 
and  less  definite,  but  they  are  more  durable. 

One  scene  yet  remains,  which,  though  you  have 
gazed  upon  the  Alps  in  all  their  splendid  alternations 
of  high  sublimity,  and  acknowledged  the  presence  of 
the  same  feeling  while  floating  on  the  bosom  of  the 
Ocean  in  calm  or  tempest, — still  stands  forward  among 
these,  the  world's  wonders,  and  vies  with  them,  in 
claiming  its  degree  of  this  attribute, — and  that  is 
Niagara;  the  huge  step  between  the  waters  of  an  upper 
and  a  lower  w^orld,  whence  the'  thunder  of  water  has 
echoed  through  the  forests,  and  the  vapour  of  the  great 
cataract  has  ascended  for  ages,  like  smoke  from  an 
altar  to  the  great  Creator  of  All. 


LETTER  IV. 

About  the  second  week  in  July,  after  being  wit- 
nesses of  the  panic  caused  in  New- York  by  the  out- 
break of  the  cholera,  we  prepared  to  follow  Mr.  Irving 
to  Boston,  where  he  purposed  to  give  us  rendezvous 
previous  to  our  visit  to  the  White  Mountains,  the 
[lightest  group  in  the  Union.  Accordingly,  one  rainy 
morning  we  put  ourselves  on  board  a  noble  steam-boat, 
and  proceeding  through  the  East  River,  we  glided 
past  the  redoubted  Hell-Gate,  Pot,  Frying-Pan,  Hog's 
Back,  Hen  and  Chickens,  and  other  dangers  of  olden 


THE  VALE  OF  CONNECTICUT. 


43 


times,  and  entered  upon  the  broad  surface  of  Long 
Island  Sound, 

Instead,  however,  of  pursuing  the  ordinary  course  to 
Newport  and  Providence,  we  were  set  ashore  at  the 
little  port  of  Newhaven  in  Connecticut,  and  subse- 
quently pursued  our  journey  through  the  centre  of  that 
State  to  Hartford  and  Northampton.  In  landing 
among  these,  the  early  settlements  of  the  New  World, 
after  glancing  at  the  States  more  to  the  southward,  you 
are  struck  with  the  air  of  comparative  antiquity  in 
many  objects.  The  houses,  the  enclosures,  and  the 
trees  planted  among  them,  have  a  much  more  English 
appearance.  The  towns  and  villages  are  more  thickly 
strewed  over  the  face  of  the  country,  and  their  outskirts 
much  less  ragged  and  less  incumbered  with  rubbish  and 
building  materials.  The  population  seems  to  be  at 
home  on  the  soil,  and  children  to  have  succeeded  to  the 
inheritance  of  their  fathers  for  many  generations,  old 
houses  of  imported  brick,  aged  Lombardy  poplars, 
grass-grown  and  discoloured  pavements  and  thresholds, 
and  orchards  full  of  gray  distorted  apple-trees,  mark 
the  vicinity  of  many  of  the  earliest  settlements.  Here 
or  there  stands  an  ancient  tree — the  sole  survivor  of 
the  original  forest,  and  a  boundary-mark  of  the  first 
colonists.  The  cemeteries  are  more  spacious  and  more 
decently  maintained  than  you  will  observe  elsewhere, 
and  within  their  precincts  you  see  many  a  time-stained 
tombstone,  of  the  exact  pattern  and  fashion  in  ornament 
and  inscription,  of  those  picturesque  memorials  of  the 
dead  which  crowd  the  hallowed  church-yards  of  the 
mother-countr}^  The  signs  of  long  and  steady  culti- 
vation may  be  remarked  on  the  face  of  the  landscape, 
and  all  these  things  combined,  throw  a  degree  of  in- 
terest over  the  country  apart  from  the  charms  of  natural 
scenery,  which  contrasts  agreeably  with  that  air  of 
rawness  and  newness  which  is  imprinted  upon  the  works 
of  man  in  other  portions  of  the  continent,  and  which  is 
so  opposed  to  anything  like  poetry  and  sentiment. 

The  valley  of  the  Connecticut  river  struck  us  as  one 
of  the  most  lovely  we  had  ever  beheld.  Many  are  the 
beauties  with  which  nature  has  decked  the  verdant, 


44 


THE  VALE  OF  CONNECTICUT. 


fertile,  and  park-like  shores  of  that  pastoral  stream  in 
its  lower  course,  as  it  winds  among  flourishing  towns, 
and  bears  upon  its  broad  bosom  the  fruits  of  the  indus- 
try and  commercial  activity  of  a  busy  population.  The 
numerous  villages  have  a  delightful  appearance  in  the 
distance  with  their  clean-built,  white  houses ;  their  gar- 
dens, and  broad  streets.  The  weeping  elm  is  the  glory 
of  New  England,  and  trees  of  great  beauty  and  size 
not  unfrequently  line  both  sides  of  the  streets,  and 
cluster  about  the  older  mansions. 

Above  Hartford  the  banks  of  the  river  rise  to  a 
greater  elevation,  and  the  whole  style  of  scenery  about 
Springfield  and  Northampton  is  lovely  in  the  extreme. 
Indeed  this  river  is  said  to  abound  in  romantic  views 
throughout  its  long  and  varied  course.  In  the  course 
of  our  tour,  we  again  came  upon  its  banks,  at  the  little 
town  of  Lancaster  in  New  Hampshire,  two  hundred 
miles  above  Northampton,  and  still  found  it  a  broad 
deep  stream  flowing  in  an  exquisite  vale,  in  a  country 
where  cultivation  was  gradually  wresting  the  soil  from 
the  dark  primeval  forests,  and  surrounded  by  nearer  or 
distant  chains  of  mountains. 

From  Northampton  we  crossed  the  state  by  the 
direct  road  to  Boston.  Stage-coachmen  are  here,  as 
elsewhere,  a  peculiar  race  ;  they  drive  well  and  fear- 
lessly, but  not  in  jockey  style,  and  in  a  manner  quite 
devoid  of  grace.  They  display  no  coquetry  in  dress, 
and  are  evidently  fatahsts,  taking  always  the  chances 
of  an  overturn  against  the  chances  of  escape.  You 
see  them  dash  over  a  steep  hill  in  rapid  career,  some- 
times driving  six  in  hand,  and  hardly  holding  in  the 
horses  during  the  descent,  seemingly  trusting  to  their 
stars,  the  beds  of  rough  stone,  deep  sand,  or  the  fre- 
quent gutters  constructed  across  the  roads  in  the  hilly 
districts  to  prevent  their  being  washed  away,  to  bring 
them  gradually  and  safely  to  the  bottom. 

While  travelling  commodiously  to  and  fro  in  the 
New  England  states,  the  mind  is  frequently  inclined  to 
occupy  itself  with  the  singular  and  striking  circum- 
stances of  its  first  settlement.    Two  centuries  and  a 


SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


45 


half  have  rolled  by  since  the  May-Flower  and  her 
burden  of  pilgrims  approached  the  shores  of  this  part 
of  America,  then  totally  unknown  and  unexplored  : 
and  no  country  on  earth  can  boast  a  more  remarkable 
and  a  more  chequered  history  since  that  period. 
Whatever  may  be  your  modification  of  religious 
opinion,  you  cannot  but  admire  the  strength  of  mind, 
simplicity  of  faith  and  purpose,  and  almost  super- 
human perseverance  and  hardihood  of  character  of  the 
early  colonists.  They  were  placed  truly  in  fearful 
circumstances,  and  it  is  both  instructive  and  consoling 
to  see  how  the  back  became  suited  to  the  burden. 
However  rudely  transplanted  from  the  bosom  of  civil- 
ized society,  they  '  steeled  their  souls,'  and  were  gifted 
with  a  power  of  endurance  which  might  be  deemed 
beyond  nature  by  those  who  have  not  seen  how 
much  strength  both  of  mind  and  body,  man  has  been 
endowed  with,  and  is  capable  of  exerting  under  the 
excitement  of  peculiar  circumstances,  beyond  that 
modicum  of  either,  which  he  may  be  called  to  exert  in  • 
the  common  walks  of  life. 

Their  minds  were  not  only  unappalled  by  the  ex- 
change they  had  made,  between  '  a  paradise  of  plea- 
sure and  plenty,  and  a  wilderness  of  wants,' — the 
change  of  clime  and  scene,  unheard-of  hardships  and 
privations,  cold,  hunger,  and  disease  ; — but  evidently 
gaining  strength  from  the  very  destitution  of  their 
position,  their  being  beyond  all  certain  human  aid 
and  help — in  the  fervour  of  religious  dependence  on 
God  they  struggled  on  under  all  these  accumulated 
causes  of  trial,  and  those  of  a  yet  more  fearful  char- 
acter which  awaited  them  in  the  roused  and  impla- 
cable hostility  of  the  tribes  whom  they  supplanted 
from  without,  or  the  fire  of  fanaticism  and  schism 
within  their  settlements,  and  finally  triumphed. 

You  inquire  into  the  origin  of  most  of  the  pleasant 
towns  and  villages  of  Massachusetts,  Connecticut,  and 
Rhode  Island,  and  find  few  whose  early  foundations 
were  not  laid  upon  ground  bedewed  by  the  sweat  and 
blood  of  the  little  band  of  brothers,  which  first  raised 


46 


SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


the  axe  in  that  part  of  the  forest.  The  majority  of 
the  settlements  had  their  commencement  in  a  few 
individuals  either  taking  possession  of  a  tract  of  land 
ceded  to  them  by  the  Indian  sachems,  or  purchasing 
the  same  of  the  companies  holding  a  large  district 
tinder  the  royal  grants  and  charters.  They  formed 
themselves  into  communities,  having  their  own  civil 
and  religious  laws  and  their  municipal  regulations, 
and  in  general  submitted  to  such  an  unusual  scru- 
tiny into  individual  conduct  and  private  life,  as  to 
be  a  marvel  in  the  present  time.  They  bound  them- 
selves soberly  together  into  a  body  politic,  the  separate 
settlements  by  degrees  united,  and  submitted  to  a 
commota  government.  The  watchfulness  of  their 
magistrates  over  the  public  morals  was  pushed  to  a 
most  ridiculous  extent.  But  you  have  only  to  peruse 
any  of  their  codes,  the  Blue  Laws  of  Connecticut 
for  instance,  or  read  any  of  the  chronicles  of  the  time, 
to  satisfy  yourself  as  to  that. 

•  In  those  early  times,  and  under  those  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, all  men  expressed  themselves  with  ve- 
hemence and  acted  with  violence.  Scarcely  had  the 
first  colonists  landed,  before  religious  feuds  broke  out 
and  farther  separations  occurred.  Men  who  had 
quitted  their  native  country,  hand  in  hand,  for  the 
same  holy  cause,  found  in  the  solitude  of  their  new 
position  fresh  subjects  of  difference,  which  admitted 

'  of  no  adjustment  and  no  mutual  forbearance  and 
forgiveness ;  but  proudly  drew  away  from  each  other 
deeper  into  the  woods,  unappalled  by  danger  and  utter 
loneliness^  The  severity  of  manners  and  morals  prac- 
tised among  them  was  accompanied  by  distrust,  intrac- 
tability, and  rancour.  The  emigration  of  the  Quakers 
and  Baptists,  lent  fuel  to  the  flame,  and  persecution 
was  added  to  other  troubles.  From  being  the  oppres- 
sed, they  became  the  oppressors. 

Fanaticism  brought  in  the  end  its  own  punishment, 
and  a  terrible  one  it  was.  The  belief  in  witchcraft 
arose  and  spread  like  a  contagion  in  some  of  the 
settlements,  and  it  was  not  till  after  a  number  of  lives 


SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND,  47 


had  been  sacrificed  to  it,  that  the  inhabitants  awoke  as 
from  a  dream,  and  lamented  their  falling  off  from  rea- 
son and  true  Christianity. 

If  the  history  of  this  people  in  their  relation  to  one 
another  is  worthy  of  study  and  full  of  interest,  that 
of  their  struggles  with  the  Indian  inhabitants  of  the 
forest,  is  not  the  less  so.  It  is  to  be  lamented  that 
here,  as  every  where  else,  the  superior  power  and 
intelligence  of  the  whites  only  led  to  the  speedier  and 
more  certain  destruction  of  the  latter ;  and  much  of  the 
misery  on  both  sides  is  to  be  traced  in  its  first  source 
to  the  conduct  of  the  former.  It  is  humiliating  to  mark 
how  extremes  meet,  and  how  the  fate  of  the  Indian, 
under  the  lash  of  the  unsparing  zeal  and  cupidity  of 
the  most  bigotted  Roman  Catholic  in  the  central  divi- 
sions of  this  Continent,  where  tens  of  thousands  were 
sacrificed  under  the  plea  of  doing  God  service,  was 
that  also  the  Northern  Indian,  under  the  relentless 
barbarity  of  the  most  fanatical  among  Protestants,  who, 
deeming  themselves  a  peculiar  people,  turned  a  war  of 
defence,  to  which  their  conduct  had  mainly  given  rise, 
into  a  war  of  extermination,  and  believed  they  were 
thus  fulfilling  the  will  of  God. 

However  stern  the  necessity  appeared  to  be,  which 
bade  the  Puritans  seek  elsewhere  for  a  land  where  they 
might  worship  God  without  molestation,  according  to 
their  own  consciences,  abundant  testimonials  are  extant 
of  the  ardent  love  and  affection  with  which  these  early 
emigrants  looked  back  to  the  land  of  their  fathers. 
'We  in  this  country,'  says  one  of  them,^  '  have  left 
our  near  relations,  brothers,  sisters,  fathers'  houses, 
nearest  and  dearest  friends  ;  but  if  we  can  get  nearer 
to  God  here, —  He  will  be  instead  of  all,  more  than 
all  to  us.  We  may  take  that  out  of  God  that  we 
forsook  in  father,  mother,  brother  and  sister,  and 
friend,  that  hath  been  near  and  dear  to  us  as  our  own 
soul.    Even  among  the  most  wicked  sinners  there  may 

*  Mr.  Whitney,  a  pastor  of  Lynn,  Massachusetts,  from  1636  to 
1690. 


48  SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


be  found  some  righteous, — some  corn  among  the  chaff, 
—some  jewels  among  the  sand, — some  pearls  among  a 
multiiude  of  shells.  Who  hath  made  England  to  differ 
from  other  nations,  that  more  jewels  are  to  be  found 
there  than  elsewhere  ?  or,  what  hath  that  island  that  it 
hath  not  received  ?  *  The  East  and  the  West  Indies 
yield  their  gold,  and  pearl,  and  sweet  spices — but  I 
know  where  the  spicy  Christians  be.  England  hath 
^  yielded  these,  yet  not  England,  but  the  grace  of  God 
that  hath  ever  been  with  ihem.  We  see  what  hope 
we  may  have  concerning  iVi^i^  England,  though  we  do 
not  deserve  to  be  named  the  same  day  with  our  dear 
mother.' 

And  that  this  love  was  real  and  unfeigned,  was 
proved  for  years,  by  their  cherished  relations  with 
home,  as  they  taught  their  children  to  call  their  mother- 
country; — by  their  willingness  of  dependence; — their 
very  prejudices  ; — the  blood  which  they  freely  shed  in 
the  quarrels  of  their  king,  and  by  a  multiiude  of 
other  testimonials  now  throw^n  aside  and  forgotten.  For 
a  while  this  affection  grew  with  their  growth,  and  in- 
creased with  their  strength.  It  need  not  have  been 
estranged,  and  perhaps  never  would  have  been,  had 
England  understood  her  true  interests,  and  always 
acted  with  justice.  But  she  was  only  a  stepmother 
at  best.  Perhaps  temporary  oppression  from  the 
measures  of  government  on  one  hand,  and  a  sense  of 
growing  strength  and  importance  on  the  other,  would 
hardly  have  effected  it,  despite  the  democratic  feeling 
which  existed  in  the  country  from  its  earliest  settle- 
ments. There  are  other  things  which  are  even  more 
potent  than  oppression  in  producing  the  separation  of 
colonies  from  the  parent  states : — offended  pride : 
pique  ;  the  soreness  produced  by  unmerited  ridicule  ; 
the  disgust  consequent  upon  being  undervalued — and 
other  passions  of  that  class  whose  workings  are  more 
hidden,  but  infinitely  more  sure  and  certain  in  their 
effects. 

In  referring  to  the  early  history  of  this  country  and 
the  circumstances  of  its  colonization,  there  is  one 


SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.  49 


fact  which  it  is  perhaps  well  to  bear  in  mind,  at  a 
time  when  the  spirit  of  change  seems  to  pervade  the 
very  air  we  breathe  ;  and  the  example  of  America 
is  frequently  quoted,  to  prove  that  the  advocates  for 
the  overthrow  of  our  Constitution,  and  covertly  of  our 
monarchical  form  of  government,  are  not  the  rogues 
or  dupes  which  most  honest  men  would  suppose.  We 
are  told  to  look  to  her,  to  see  how  a  country  may 
throw  aside  monarchy,  become  a  democratic  republic, 
— flourish  and  increase,  and  give  abundant  promise  of 
future  greatness  and  power.  This  is  true,  the  United 
States  do  flourish,  and  they  do  increase,  and  they  pro- 
mise great  things, — may  they  fulfil  them  !  But  this 
is  to  be  gathered  from  their  history,  that  when  the 
American  colonies  threw  ofi"  their  allegiance  to  the 
monarch  of  Great  Britain  and  his  government,  they 
never  threw  aside  the  British  constitution,  which  did 
not  intimately  concern  them. 

Many  suppose  that  it  was  not  till  the  Revolution 
that  the  Americans  began  to  govern  themselves, 
when,  in  fact,  they  had  all  along  been  brought  up  to 
self-government.  The  constitution  generally  agreed  to 
by  the  diflferent  bands  of  colonists  was  a  pure  de- 
mocracy ;  many  of  them,  even  down  to  the  time  of  the 
Revolution,  possessed  and  exhibited  all  the  essential 
attributes  of  free  states.  The  puritans  were  especially 
republicans  in  creed  and  discipline;  and  in  all  their 
arrangements  this  principle  was  predominant.  And 
this  the  Government  at  home  knew  and  acknowledged 
for  many  years,  and  had  it  been  always  remembered, 
the  bond  between  us  might  long  before  this  have 
changed  its  character,  but  it  never  would  have  been 
rudely  broken.  The  royal  prerogative  of  control  was 
wisely  and  sparingly  exercised  in  the  internal  affairs  of 
the  colonies,  even  in  their  earliest  and  feeblest  state  ; 
and  it  was  not  till  it  began  to  be  inauspiciously  and 
oppressively  put  forward,  that  there  was  any  avowed 
disposition  on  their  part  to  resist. 

If  by  these  disjointed  and  hasty  remarks,  I  shall  suc- 

VOL.  I.  5 


50 


NEW  HAMPSHIRE. 


ceed  in  directing  your  attention  to  an  interesting  sub- 
ject, I  shall  gain  my  end. 

At  Boston,  we  found  our  companion  awaiting  our 
arrival  at  the  Tremont  Hotel,  and  on  chatting  over  our 
projects,  we  resolved  to  proceed  without  delay  on  our 
tour  to  the  northward,  the  rather,  as  all  minds  were 
more  or  less  unhinged  by  the  absorbing  subject  of  con- 
versation and  dread,  the  cholera.  We  had  therefore 
only  time  to  glance  at  the  Lions.  It  is  a  subject  of 
regret,  that  neither  on  the  present  nor  a  subsequent 
visit,  had  we  a  fitting  opportunity  of  becoming  more 
intimately  acquainted  w^ith  the  details  and  the  society 
of  this  large  axd  handsome  capital.  It  is  by  far  the 
most  English  looking  city  of  the  Union,  and  has  a 
chara  ter  for  possessing  much  good,  well-educated  and 
acrom  lished  society,  um\e  and  female.  IVly  great 
quarrel  (for  one  may  contrive  to  pick  a  quarrel  every 
where)  is  that  the  good  Bostoiiians  pertinaciously  per- 
sist in  crowing  over  the  battle  of  Bunker's  Hill,  as 
though  they  had  gained  anj^  thing  on  that  occasion 
worth  being  thankful  for.  You  recollect,  doubtless, 
that  we  were  taught  to  crow  over  it  also  as  school-boys, 
as  a  victory  of  King  George's.  But  many  of  the  old, 
and  apparently  settled  layers  of  the  brain  get  strangely 
turned  upside  down  by  travelling. 

Much  of  the  country  to  the  north  of  Boston,  with 
the  exception  of  the  fertile  lands  in  immediate  con- 
tiguity to  the  rivers,  might  be  described  in  few  words, 
as  a  labyrinth  of  forests,  lakes,  granite  rocks,  and 
boulder-stones,  dispersed  over  an  undulating  surface; 
with  cultivated  tracts  and  flourishing  villages  and 
towns,  wherever  the  courses  of  the  clear  streams  are  in- 
terrupted by  rocks,  and  thus  rendered  serviceable  for 
the  purposes  of  manufacture,  or  where  the  soil  is  par- 
ticuliirly  rich.  Tlie  first  day^s  journey  northward 
brought  us  over  the  Merrimac,  to  the  town  of  Concord, 
in  New  Hampshire.  The  beauty  of  the  ponds  or  lakes, 
with  which  the  country  is  frequently  broken,  lying 
deeply  sunk  in  the  forests,  diversified  by  islands  and 
promontories,  and  frequently  extending  twelve  or  fifteen 


NEW  HAMPSHIRE. 


51 


miles  in  length,  was  the  principal  feature  which  caught 
our  attention. 

The  second  day  we  reached  the  shores  of  Winnipis- 
siogee  Lake,  the  largest  in  New  Hampshire,  and 
between  twenty  and  thirty  miles  long.  On  our  route 
we  visited  a  Shaker  settlement ;  clean,  orderly  and  odd, 
but  otherwise  in  no  way  distinguished  from  others  of 
their  community  dispersed  over  the  Union,  and  fre- 
quently described.  To  what  singular  and  childish 
vagaries  will  men  resort,  when  through  perverse  pride 
they  sacrifice  their  simple  belief  in  revelation  at  the 
shrine  of  human  reason  !  How  many  in  our  day  are 
content  to  grope  along  by  the  light  of  their  own  sorry 
taper,  rather  than  walk  in  the  glorious  light  which 
God  has  freely  offered  us  ! 

The  lake  with  the  long  name,  as  written  above,  we 
found  less  beautiful  than  many  of  its  inferiors  in  ex- 
tent ;  but  the  scenery  from  thence  to  the  base  of  the 
White  Mountains  at  Conway,  and  still  farther  in  their 
recesses  toward  the  Notch,  is  tridy  romantic.  This 
detached  group  occupies  the  centre  of  the  State  of 
New  Hampshire.  The  country  at  the  base  is,  for  the 
fnost  part,  covered  with  endless  pine  forests,  full  of 
ponds  and  tangled  streams,  through  which  the  smaller 
rivers,  proceeding  from  the  slopes,  filter  slowly  toward 
the  more  open  country.  There  seems  to  be  going  for- 
ward, in  many  parts  of  these  uncultivated  districts,  a 
continual  struggle  between  the  two  great  elements, 
earth  and  water.  L^rge  tracts  are  overflowed  at  one 
season,  and  the  land  and  its  produce  drowned  beneath 
the  dark  lake  ;  while  on  the  bosom  of  many  of  the  lat- 
ter, banks  of  sand  are  gradually  thrown  up  by  the 
action  of  the  waves  ;  shallows  are  formed,  which  teem 
with  aquatic  plants,  water-snakes,  terrapins,  and  bull- 
frogs ;  piles  of  floating  and  rotting  timber  are  stranded 
upon  them;  a  vegetable  mould  is  formed,  and  in  the 
course  of  years  an  island  rises,  covered  with  the  ordi- 
nary forest  trees  of  the  climate.  The  latter,  from  the 
predominance  of  the  fir  tr  ibe  among  them,  are  of  a  much 
gloomier  character  than  those  farther  to  the  south ; 


52 


SPONTANEOUS  VEGETATION. 


but  they  abound  with  many  shapely  and  beautiful  trees, 
none  more  so  than  the  tall  sugar-maple;  and  many 
sweet  flowers  peep  out  from  the  marshes,  or  from  the 
thickets  of  fern  and  dwarf  oak.  How  wonderful  and 
how  imperfectly  understood  are  many  of  the  ordinary 
operations  of  nature  !  No  sooner  does  the  axe  of  the 
woodman,  or  the  accidental  burning  of  the  forests,  de- 
stroy one  class  of  trees  and  brushwood^ — a  class  that 
may  have  apparently  covered  the  soil  for  centuries — 
than  another  race  perfectly  distinct,  rises,  as  though  by 
magic,  from  the  disturbed  and  discoloured  soil,  and 
covers  it  with  beauty.  The  proofs  of  the  almost  uni- 
versal principle  of  spontaneous  vegetation  throughout 
both  the  forest  and  prairie  lands  of  the  New  Continent, 
are  so  well  known  and  acknowledged,  as  to  need  no 
additional  confirmation  at  the  present  day.  We  have 
met  with  continual  evidences  of  its  truth  in  every  part 
of  the  east  and  west.  It  would  seem  that  the  seeds  of 
one  class  of  plants  and  forest  trees  must  be  deposited 
by  some  catastrophe  beyond  the  action  of  light,  heat 
and  atmospheric  air ;  where  they  lie,  supplanted  by 
another  growth,  and  are  forgotten,  preserving,  how- 
ever, the  vital  principle  for  centuries  in  a  dormant  or 
torpid  state,  till  accident  or  tillage  brings  them  to  a 
position  favourable  to  their  reproduction  to  light  and 
life. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  this  extra- 
ordinary phenomenon,  of  frequent  but  well  attested 
occurrence,  is  that  the  marl  dug  from  pits  thirty  feet 
deep  in  some  parts  of  the  Union,  on  being  spread 
over  the  soil,  becomes  instantly  covered  with  white 
clover ;  and  in  New  Jersey,  this  is  the  case  with  the 
mud  dragged  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  Delaware, 
and  used  for  the  purposes  of  manure. 

From  Conway,  we  followed  the  valley  of  the  river 
Saco,  as  I  have  already  implied,  to  the  Notch  or  gap 
in  the  mountains  near  which  it  rises  ;  a  remarkable  and 
romantic  pass,  frequented  in  summer  by  numbers  of 
tourists  like  ourselves  ;  and  in  the  winter,  when  all  the 
mountains  and  the  countries  at  their  base  are  often 


THE  WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 


63 


covered  for  weeks  with  deep  snow,  by  innumerable 
sledges  laden  with  cheese  and  corn,  transported 
through  this  pass  from  tlie  fertile  vallies  of  Vermont 
and  the  upper  country,  to  the  coast. 

The  ascent  of  the  highest  summit  of  the  cluster- 
Mount  Washington,  (6234  feet)  was  attempted  by  our 
party,  under  disadvantageous  circumstances:  upon 
gaining  the  summit,  after  some  hour's  toil  and  much 
expectation,  we  were  enveloped  in  heavy  mist,  which 
set  our  patienc  e  at  defiance,  and  sent  us  cold  and  wet 
on  our  downward  route,  A  solitary  scramble  to  the 
summit  of  the  third  in  rank,  situated  in  the  same  chain, 
which  I  had  contrived  to  accomplish  the  preceding  day, 
under  better  auspices,  allows  me  to  give  you  some 
faint  picture  of  the  scenerj^  of  the  White  Hills. 

As  a  mountain  view,  it  was  truly  magnificent, 
though  by  far  the  most  gloomy  I  had  ever  beheld. 
The  entire  group,  save  five  or  six  of  the  most  elevated 
mountains,  which  rear  their  scalps  of  micacious  rock 
over  a  belt  of  dwarf  fir,  appears  invariably  clothed  to 
the  very  summits  with  the  dense  northern  forest,  and 
excepting  here  and  there  in  the  deepest  vallies,  or  at 
such  a  distance  that  the  gazer  could  but  just  detect  the 
difference  amidst  the  blue  tints  of  the  horizon,  where 
the  swelling  surface  sank  imperceptibly  down  toward 
the  lower  country,  the  eye  was  scarcel}^  relieved  by  the 
sight  of  cultivation.  No  rock  could  be  descried  ex- 
cept that  which  heaped  up  the  highest  summits;  no 
bright  green  pastures  were  seen  on  the  steep  slopes  ; 
130  white  cottages  shone  like  stars  from  afar;  but 
here  and  there  the  precipitous  declivities  were  deeply 
seamed  by  tremendous  earth-slides,  appearing  like 
gashes  in  the  dark  face  of  the  mountains.  A  number 
of  misty  lakes  gleamed  in  the  distance  to  the  south- 
ward, and  occasionally  you  saw  the  white  smoke  rising 
from  some  upland  valley  where  a  hardy  son  of  the  soil 
had  pitched  his  habitation,  and  begun  his  struggle 
w\ih  the  wilderness  and  its  iii habitants. 

From  my  description  you  will  gather  that  the  upper 
districts  of  ihi^  mpuntain  region  are  still  in  the  state  of 

5* 


54 


ROYALTON. 


nature,  as  wild  as  when  the  red  warriors,  two  centuries 
ago,  gathered  themselves  together  in  their  recesses  and 
leagued  for  the  destruction  of  the  intruders  on  their 
coasts ;  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  Indian  tribes, 
the  district  is  still  tenanted  by  almost  the  same  inhabi- 
tants. Here  the  bear,  the  catamount,  the  Siberian 
]ynxy  the  wolf,  and  the  lordly  stag,  still  find  harbour. 

By  ascending  the  valley  of  the  Saco,  and  descend- 
ing that  of  the  Ammonoosuc,,  we  cut  completely  across 
the  chain.  Pourtales  and  myself  continued  our  route 
as  far  north  as  Lancaster ;  and  then  having  parted  for 
awhile  from  our  companion,  who  was  obliged  to  return 
for  a  few  days  to  New  York,  with  an  intention  of  join- 
ing company  again  in  ten  days'  time  at  Saratoga 
Springs,  we  bent  our  steps  to  Montpelier,  in  Vermont, 
and  took  our  course  southward  through  the  whole 
range  of  the  Green  Hills,  the  back-bone  of  that  State, 
to  Bennington. 

The  interval  spent  in  thus  rambling  through  the 
fertile  valleys  of  that  chain  of  beautifully  wooded  hills^ 
has  left  a  very  pleasant  class  of  recollections,  but  in 
general  of  so  uniform  and  ordinary  a  character,  that  I 
do  not  think  you  would,  thank  me  for  delaying  my 
narrative  here. 

We  ascended  Killington  Peak,  a  prominent  summit 
of  the  chain,  rising  four  thousand  feet  above  Lake 
Champlain,  which  we  descried  glistening  like  a  sheet 
of  silver  in  the  distant  horizon ;  and  we  remained  one 
day  in  the  village  of  Royalton,  upon  which  I  will  ven- 
ture a  few  remarks  ;  partly  because  we  were  stationary 
and  more  at  liberty  to  look  at  the  scene  around  us, 
and  partly  because  of  all  the  pretty  New  England  vil- 
lages, and  there  are  thousands,  there  is  none  more 
lovely  than  that  just  named,  on  the  banks  of  White 
River. 

Too  frequently  you  have  to  remark,  in  travelling  in 
the  United  States,  how  utterly,  prosaic  all  the  works  of 
man  appear ;  and  it  is  well  if  there  are  exceptions  now 
and  then,  and  if  you  meet  with  secluded  spots  where  the 


ROYALTON. 


55 


charms  of  nature  are  not  blurred  by  the  inharmonious 
works  of  human  design. 

The  village  in  question  lay  niched  in  the  very  heart 
of  the  wooded  hills  on  the  banks  of  a  crystal  stream, 
flowing  over  a  white  pebbly  bed,  with  an  occasional 
mass  of  slate  rock  peering  above  the  surface.  The  hills 
of  medium  height,  rose  steeply  on  either  hand,  dis- 
playing forested  summits  and  sloping  green  sides 
denuded  of  timber,  except  occasional  groups  or  single 
trees,  and  heie  and  there  broken  by  an  isolated  mass 
of  rock.  ..A  conical  hill  with  a  solitary  tree  on  its  sum- 
rait  overtopped  the  lower  end  of  the  village.  The  latter 
was  composed,  as  usual,  principally  of  one  street,  with 
houses  irregularly  posted,  and  trees  and  gardens  be- 
tween. A  few  of  the  modern  houses  had  a  degree  of 
taste  to  recommend  them,  and  an  old  fashioned  cluster 
of  low  cottages.with  open  galleries  toward  the  street, 
and  steps  down  to  t fie  level  of  the  road,  directly  fronted 
the  inn. 

The  church,  barn-like,  as  usual,  and  built  with  a 
scantiness  of  roof  which  added  to  its  deformity,  stood 
on  the  verge  of  a  kind  of  green,  not  far  from  the  inn, 
which  was  one  of  the  best  and  most  prominent  edifices 
of  the  place.-  It  had  the  ordinary  appendage  of  a  huge 
staring  sign,  and  lofty  sign-post  in  the  middle  of  the 
street.  The  unoccupied  spaces  and  corners  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  ihe  houses,  which  at  an  earlier 
day,  had  doubtk\ss  been  heaped  with  rubbish,  now 
bore  a  rank  growth  of  tall  plants,  among  which  the 
mulberry-coloured  blossoms  and  broad  white  leaves  of 
the  milk-weed  wiere  conspicuous.  There  were  charm- 
ing walks  along  the  river  bank  under  the  shade  of  the 
forest,  which  hung  over  the  water,  from  the  northern 
slopes. 

The  interior  of  the  inn  was  more  calculated  for  indi- 
vidual comfort  than  those  ordinarily  met  with  out  of 
the  principal  cities  in  the  United  States.  I  was  de- 
lighted to  observe  a  large  family  Bible  with  the  ordi- 
nary list  of  family  births,  marriages,  and  deaths,  on 
the  side-table  of  our  sitting-room.    It  was  easy  to  see 


56 


THE  NEW  ENGLANDER. 


that  we  were  in  the  "  land  of  sober  habits,"  and  many 
things  brought  England  to  mind. 

It  was  here  our  lot  to  spend  a  quiet  Sunday.  During 
the  earlier  hours  of  the  day,  a  few  loungers  were  seen 
under  the  arcade  of  our  inn,  else  the  village  appeared 
deserted.  Suddenly  divers  gigs,  light  carts,  sulkies, 
and  horsemen,  came  from  all  sides,  and  congregated 
under  a  line  of  sheds  constructed  at  the  back  of  the 
ciiurch.  The  congregation  assembled.  A  plain  and 
unaffected  sermon  was  delivered  by  a  baptist  minister, 
prefjiced  and  followed  by  the  congregational  singing, 
led  by  the  feeble  notes  of  a  single  flute.  The  service 
ended,  the  quiet  street  of  the  village  appeared,  for  an 
instant,  full  of  busy  feet ;  doors  were  opened  and  shut, 
the  gigs  and  sulkies  were  filled,  and  straightway 
whirled  away  ;  but  a  few  minutes  sufficed  to  restore  it 
to  its  solitude,  and  for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  hardly 
a  sound  was  heard.  The  good  people  of  Royalton 
seemed  to  be  quietly  digesting  the  spiritual  food  thus 
afforded  them,  and  their  Sunday  was  literally  a  day  of 
rest. 

The  manners  and  habits  of  this  great  eastern  divi- 
sion of  the  American  people  are  strikingly  distinct 
from  those  of  their  fellow  citizens  to  the  southward. 
The  character  of  the  inhabitants  of  New  England  for 
diligence,  shrewdness,  and  all  those  matter-of-fact 
talents  which  tell  in  a  country  like  this,  where  every 
man  is  struggling  to  get  and  maintain  an  indepen- 
dence, is  probably  familiar  to  you.  They  are  specu- 
lative, at  the  same  time  that  their  caution,  clearsighted- 
ness, and  indomitable  perseverance,  generally  ensure 
success.  In  politics,  their  practical  conduct  is  strikingly 
opposed  to  the  theoretical  vagaries  of  the  south.  They 
have  often,  and  not  without  reason,  been  compared  to 
the  northern  inhabitants  of  our  own  island  :  but,  I 
think,  the  New  Englanders  have  all  the  steadiness  and 
prudence  of  the  Scotch,  with  a  yet  greater  degree  of 
ingenuity.  Like  the  Scotch,  they  foster  education  ; 
Hke  the  Scotch,  they  are  inclined  to  the  more  severe 
forms  of  religious  discipline  and  worship ;  like  the 


THE  NEW  ENGLANDER. 


57 


Scotch,  they  are  fearfully  long-winded  ;  like  them  they 
are  gadders  abroad,  loving  to  turn  their  faces  south- 
ward and  westward,  pushing  their  fortunes  wherever 
fortunes  are  to  be  pushed,  and  often  in  places  and  by 
shifts  where  no  one  ever  dreamed  that  fortunes  were 
to  be  gained.  They  may  be  found  supplanting  the 
less  energetic  possessor  of  land  and  property  in  every 
state  of  the  Union.  They  have  a  finger  upon  the  rim 
of  ever}^  man's  dish,  and  a  toe  at  every  man's  heel. 
They  are  the  pedlers  and  schoolmasters  of  the  whole 
country ;  and,  though  careless  of  good  living  abroad, 
when  at  home  and  at  ease,  they  are  fond  of"  creature 
comforts."  No  where  is  the  stomach  of  the  traveller 
or  visitor  put  in  such  constant  peril  as  among  the  cake- 
inventive  housewives  and  daughters  of  New  England. 
Such  is  the  universal  attention  paid  to  this  particular 
branch  of  epicurism  in  these  States,  that  I  greatly  sus- 
pect that  some  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  must  have  come 
over  to  the  country  with  the  cookery  book  under  one 
arm  and  the  Bible  under  the  other  ;  though  I  find  in 
more  than  one  code  of  ancient  laws  made  in  early  times, 
orders  issued  that  no  person  should  make  "  cakes  or 
buns,  except  for  solemn  festal  occasions,  such  as 
burials  and  marriages."  There  are  but  few  boys 
among  them  ;  many  of  their  children  seem  to  start  up 
at  once  to  puny  men.  I  should  not  think  they  were  a 
fun-loving  nation,  or  had  great  reverence  for  holidays  ; 
— jokes  are  an  abomination  to  many  among  them. 

Though,  in  common  with  all  Americans,  they  are 
proud  and  boastful  of  their  claims  to  unlimited  freedom, 
they  are  fond  of  imposing  grievous  burdens  upon  the 
inferior  orders  of  animals  within  their  power  ;  and  you 
see  horses  and  cows,  pigs  and  geese,  labouring  under 
the  most  singular  yokes  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 

The  faults  allied  to  this  kind  of  character  are  easily 
recognizable.  Where  education  and  religion  have  had 
their  proper  influence,  and  high-mindedness,  and  innate 
sense  of  honour  exist,  all  this  shrewdness  and  strength  of 
character  will  add  to  the  respectability  of  the  possessor, 
and  to  the  good  of  the  social  circle.    But  where  they 


58 


THE  NEW  ENGLANDER. 


are  allied  with  meanness  and  littleness  of  soul,  they 
must  bear  the  stamp  of  sordid  and  low  cunning  in  petty 
transactions,  anrl  of  uncompromising,  ungenerous 
aggrandisement  and  selfishness  in  larger  operations. 
Hence  the  diverse  terms  in  which  you  hear  the  socalled 
Yankee  or  Easternman  named,  and  the  praise  and 
obh)quy  with  which  the  character  I  have  attempted  so 
roughly  to  sketch  is  alternately  drawn.  I  was  never, 
to  my  knowledge,  taken  in  by  any  of  my  particular  or 
casual  acquaintance  in  any  of  the  Eastern  states,  and  I 
am  far  from  believing,  though  I  may  have  laughed  at 
the  thousand-and-one-tales  related  of  the  extravagant 
ingenuity  and  cunnirig  of  the  Yankee  pedlers  tramping 
through  every  nook  of  the  Union  ;  but  I  can  easily 
conceive  that  there  is  many  an  arrant  rogue  among 
them,  and  many  an  arrant  goose  among  their  cus- 
tomers. 

I  have  in  pure  idleness  given  you  as  harmless  a 
sketch  of  the  character  of  one  great  division  of  these 
doughty  republicans  as  was  ever  penned,  and  surely  so 
far  I  should  escape  having  my  name  held  up  to  national 
scorn  and  obloquy,  by  my  Transatlantic  acquaintances, 
should  it  ever  get  to  their  ears.  But  I  must  not  make 
too  sure;  for  a  man  sometimes  gets  spiteful  in  spite  of 
himself,  and  I  may  possibly  by  and  by,  in  the  progress 
of  my  relation,  arrive  at  a  place  where  I  was  both  cross 
and  crossed,  had  the  tooth-ache,  was  disappointed  or 
contradicted,  met  with  dull  weather  or  a  cold  breakfast, 
and  then  you  may  find  that  I  occasionally  see  through 
a  bilious  medium,  and  can  find  fault,  like  other  English 
travellers,  with  all  and  every  thing  about  me. 

From  Royalton,  we  crossed  the  chain  to  Rutland. 
We  were  told  we  should  find  in  the  latter  a  far  more 
elegant  town,  which  we  found  to  mean,  more  pretend- 
ing, more  scattered,  more  starin*?,  and  more  bustling. 

We  did  not  forget  our  promise  to  '  bvde  tryste'  at 
Saratoga  on  the  first  days  of  August,  and  turning  to 
the  westward  from  Bennington,  we  crossed  the  Hudson 
at  Lansinghurg,  and  were  there  at  the  time  appointed. 

I  shall  not  however  detain  you  here  at  present,  but 


POPULATION  OF  AMERICA. 


59 


with  permission,  will  leave  any  allusion  to  the  gay 
motley  crowd  at  that  fashionable  resort  till  another  op- 
portunity, and  will  carry  you  forward  with  me  to  iNia- 
gara,  which  we  visited  in  the  month  of  August, 


LETTER  V. 

In  attempting  in  this,  or  any  future  letter,  to  give 
you  an  idea  of  '  men  and  manners'  in  the  United  States 
- — which,  by  the  by,  would  seem  to  be  a  most  porten- 
tous and  dangerous  subject  for  any  person,  male  or 
female,  to  meddle  with, — I  would  always  have  you 
bear  in  mind,  that  traits  which  might  be  introduced  as 
characteristic  of  one  state  of  society,  or  of  one  class  of 
individuals,  will  hardly  admit  of  general  application  to 
the  peop  le  as  a  nation.  The  only  distinctive  and  really 
characteristic  marks  exhibited  by  the  mass  of  the  po- 
pulation are,  perhaps,  a  hearty  detestation  of  monarchi- 
cal forms  of  government  on  the  one  hand  and  a  bound- 
less admiration  of  the  republican  form  under  which  they 
live  on  the  other. 

As  to  the  rest,  where  is  their  nationality  ?  The  fact 
is,  that,  in  their  present  condition,  the  people  of  these 
countries  cannot  be  considered  to  have  a  national  char- 
acter. It  is  even  to  be  doubted  whether  they  will  ever 
amalgamate  sufficiently,  under  the  great  difference  of 
temperament,  style  of  life  and  habits  consequent  upon 
such  diverse  climates  alone,  to  admit  of  one  picture, 
however  broadly  sketched,  being  in  every  particular 
characteristic  of  the  whole.  How  can  the  same  de- 
scription of  men  and  manners  be  applicable  to  a  mixed 
population,  spread  over  such  a  vast  extent  of  country, 
under  such  very  different  circumstances,  of  such  differ- 
ent blood  and  origin  ?  Turn  to  whichever  part  of  the 
Union  you  may,  manners  perfectly  distinct  from  each 
other,  trticeable  to  the  stock  from  which  the  individual 


60         ABSENCE  OF  NATIONAL  CHARACTER. 


sprang,  in  person,  dwellings,  prejudices,  preposses- 
sions and  modes  of  expression  are  distinguishable. 

Here  you  will  find  the  children  of  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers,  and  the  early  colonists  from  the  pure  English 
stock ;  whose  descendants  have  also  spread  over  the 
fresh  virgin  soil  of  Ohio,  and  the  other  states  in  the 
same  parallel,  and  planted  themselves  in  every  part  of 
the  Union  where  shrewdness  and  industry  could  w^in 
their  way.  You  may  trace  the  French  Refugee  in 
West  Chester;  the  Dutch  in  New  York  ;  the  German 
in  the  valley  of  the  Mohawk  ;  the  Swede  in  New 
Jersey  and  Delaware ;  the  Quaker  and  the  German  in 
Pennsylvania,  together  with  distinct  colonies  of  Irish ; 
— the  descendant  of  the  Cavalier  in  Virginin,  Mary- 
land, and  the  States  to  the  south,  and  the  Italian  and 
Spaniard  in  Florida.  On  the  other  hand,  between  the 
Creole  in  Louisiana,  and  the  French  Canadian  on  the 
Upper  Lakes  and  rivers — you  detect  many  races  of 
men,  with  peculiar  habits  and  manners,  distinct  from 
each  other,  like  all  those  enumerated,  in  many  particu- 
lars, though  for  the  time  bound  together  by  a  common 
government,  and  the  ties  of  common  interest. 

When,  in  addition  to  this  evident  reason  why  a  given 
description  of 'men  and  manners'  which  may  be  a  true 
picture  when  applied  to  one  corner  of  the  country, 
must  be  inapplicable  to  another,  the  unsettled  state  of 
a  large  proportion  of  the  population,  the  advantages 
enjoyed  by  one  portion  for  the  attainment  of  a  high 
degree  of  civilization,  and  the  disadvantages  under 
which  another  may  labour,  are  all  admitted,  who  would 
expect  that  any  description  of  character  or  manners 
I  were  to  be  considered  national  ?  Yet,  neither  foreigners, 
nor,  it  might  be  surmised,  the  Americans  themselves, 
appear  aware  of  this.  Less  surprise  may  be  felt,  how- 
ever, at  the  temper  of  mind  with  which  a  prejudiced  or 
superficial  foreigner  sets  down  any  particular  tiait, 
(especially  if  a  discreditable  one)  as  characteristic  of 
the  whole  people  from  Maine  to  Florida, — than  at  the 
utter  perversity  and  sensitiveness  of  mind,  of  by  far  the 
greater  majority  of  Americans  of  whatever  class,  in 


STATE  OF  NATIONAL  FEELING. 


61 


taking  to  heart  and  bitterly  resenting  any  chance  re- 
marks upon  the  *men  and  manners'  of  a  given  district, 
when  perhaps  not  exactly  of  a  laudatory  description, — 
thus  making  the  quarrel  of  one  division  of  the  com- 
munity the  quarrel  of  all.  In  this  respect  there  is 
doubtless  a  characteristic  nationality  of  feeling.  To 
see  a  gentleman  of  Boston  or  Baltimore,  resenting  by 
word  and  deed,  the  sketch  published  to  the  world  of 
the  society  of  a  district  of  the  West,  borders  on  the 
ludicrous,  the  more  so,  as,  if  untravelled,  they  are  fre- 
quently as  ignorant  of  the  real  state  of  things  there,  as  a 
stay-at-home  Englishman  might  be  supposed  to  be.  It 
impresses  one  with  the  idea,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
United  States,  little  mercy  as  they  show  each  other  in 
their  stormy  political  contests,  little  measure  as  they 
hold  in  their  terms  of  satire  and  obloquy,  defamation 
and  abuse  of  parties  and  individuals  in  their  public 
prints,  are  sensitive  as  a  people,  beyond  example,  to 
criticism  from  without,  and  more  particularly  so  when 
the  observation  comes  from  an  inhabitant  of  Britain. 
This  weakness  almost  amounts  to  a  national  disease. 
A  little  thought  may,  perhaps,  suggest  some  reason 
for  it. 

The  English  have  not,  as  a  nation,  whatever  may  be 
supposed  by  those  who  gather  their  estimate  of  national 
feeling  from  the  Reviews,  much  sympathy  with  this 
kind  of  sensitiveness.  We  have  arrived  at  that  happy 
pitch  of  national  self-esteem,  and  our  national  pride  is 
so  little  disturbed  by  unwelcome  surmises  or  suspicions 
that  in  this  or  that  particular  we  are  really  emulated  or 
surpassed  by  our  neighbours,  that  we  calmly  set  down 
any  one  who  comes  among  us,  and  tells  us  that  in  certain 
matters  John  Bull  is  surpassed  by  other  nations,  or  an 
object  of  ridicule  to  them,  as  an  ignorant  or  spiteful 
twaddler  at  once,  and  do  not  suffer  the  national  temper 
to  be  ruffled.  Having  now,  for  so  many  years,  been  ac- 
customed to  have  justice  done  us  by  our  neighbours  on 
all  main  points,  however  unwillingly,  we  can  even  afford 
to  be  satirized,  or,  as  we  would  say,  caricatured,  in 
some  minor  particulars,  and  can  magnanimously  laugh 
VOL.  I.  6 


62 


STATE  OF  NATIONAL  FEELING. 


at  the  same.  But  not  with  America.  She  feels, 
and  with  reason,  that  jusiii  i  hns  not  always  been  done 
her  in  essentials,  and  by  Britain  in  particular.  She 
knows  that  ther.e  has  been  a  spirit  abroad  having  a 
tendency  to  keep  the  truth  and  her  real  praise  away 
from  the  eye  of  the  world,  shrouded  behind  a  vein  of 
course  ribaldry,  and  detail  of  vulgarities,  which,  if  not 
positively  untrue,  were  at  least  so  invidiously  chosen, 
and  so  confirmatory  of  prejudice,  and  so  far  caricature, 
when  applied  to  the  people  as  a  mass,  as  almost  to 
bear  the  stigma  of  untruth.  She  has  felt  that  the  pro- 
gress made  in  n  very  limited  period  of  time,  and  amidst 
many  disadvantages,  in  reclaiming  an  immense  conti- 
nent from  the  wilderness,  in  covering  it  with  innumera- 
ble flourishing  settlements;  her  success  in  the  mechanic 
arts  ;  her  noble  institutions  in  aid  of  charitable  pur- 
poses ;  the  public  spirit  of  her  citizens;  their  gigantic 
^undertakings  to  facilitate  interior  communication  ;  their 
growing  commerce  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe  ;  the 
indomitable  perseverance  of  her  sons ;  the  general  at- 
tention to  education,  and  tlie  reverence  for  religion, 
wherever  the  population  has  become  permanently 
fixed  ;  and  the  generally  mild  and  successful  operation 
of  their  government;  have  been  overlooked,  or  only 
casually  mentioned,  while  the  failings,  rawness  of 
character,  and  ill-harmonized  state  of  society  in  many 
parts ;  the  acts  of  lawless  individuals,  and  the  slang 
and  language  of  the  vulgar,  have  been  held  promi- 
nently forward  to  excite  scorn,  provoke  satire,  and 
strengthen  prejudice.  In  short,  she  has  felt  that  her 
true  claims  upon  respect  and  admiration  have  been 
either  unknown  or  undervalued  in  Europe,  and  that 
especially  that  nation  with  whom  she  had  the  greatest 
national  affinity,  was  inclined  to  be  the  most  perse- 
veringly  unjust. 

Hence  partly  arises,  it  may  be  surmised,  the  queru- 
lous state  of  sensitiveness,  to  which  allusion  has  been 
made,  and  also  that  disposition  to  swagger  and  ex- 
aggerate, which  has  been  laid  to  the  charge  of  many 
Americans,  not  without  reason. 


STATE  OF  NATIONAL  FEELING. 


63 


As  long  as  the  national  temper  maintains  this  morbid 
tone,  I  have  become  more  and  more  convinced  that  it 
will  allow  the  justice  of  no  criticism;  and  that  no  indi- 
vidual, however  honest  and  striving  against  prejudice, 
however  conciliatory,  however  sincerely  regarding  the 
people  and  their  institutions  with  respect,  however  con- 
vinced that  he  who  foments  the  ill-will  and  prejudice 
that  may  exist  between  the  two  countries,  ill  serves  his 
own,  the  cause  of  humanity  in  the  world,  or  the  nobler 
ends  of  travel  and  observation — I  say,  no  one  will 
write  a  book,  depicting  the  state  of  things  in  the 
United  States,  as  they  are,  with  all  their  unavoidable 
crudities  and  anomalies,  and  give  the  public  mind  in 
that  country  satisfaction.  Moreover  it  is  to  be  doubted 
whether  any  great  good  is  ever  to  be  effected  by  foreign 
criticism,  especiallj^  in  a  case  like  that  before  you, 
where  the  criticized  puts  hiraself  without  the  circle  in 
which  European  rules  and  deductions,  whether  politi- 
cal or  otherwise,  would  be  deemed  decisive.  America 
must  correct  her  failings,  by  the  free  course  of  her  own 
native  good  sense,  and  I  believe  will  do  it  where  cor- 
rection is  needful.  One  thing  is  certain,  she  professes 
to  have  no  more  patience  with  our  opinions,  or  respect 
for  our  gratuitous  advice,  than  a  painter  would  have 
for  that  of  a  circle  of  critics,  who  surround  his  easel, 
to  pass  judgment  upon  his  projected  chef  d'oeuvre,  of 
which  nothing  but  the  preparatory  shades  appear  on 
the  canvass. 

As  to  myself,  I  was  neither  tempted  while  in  the 
country  to  brood  over  the  disagreeable,  nor  to  look  on 
the  dark  side,  neither  can  I  do  so  now.  I  was  treated 
every  where  with  courtesy  and  good  humour,  and  what 
less  can  I  return  ? 

Causes  for  dissatisfaction  and  disgust  will  always 
be  discovered  by  the  seeker,  wiioever  and  wherever 
he  may  be.  There  is  no  wit  in  describing  as  peculiar 
to  America,  that  which  is  common  to  all  the  world. 
As  to  coarseness  and  vulgarity  of  mind  and  manners, 
it  is  not,  that  abundance  is  not  to  be  found  in  our  own 
country,  but  that  it  is,  from  circumstances  easily  under- 


64 


NIAGARA. 


Stood,  more  obtruded  for  the  present  into  prominent 
positions  in  America:  at  the  same  time  it  must  be 
allowed  that  in  most  situations,  you  may  escape  from 
its  contemplation  if  you  will.  Does  it  not  appear  f 
to  you  that  there  is  something  essentially  vulgar  in 
that  mind,  which  in  spite  of  its  alleged  disgust,  can 
continually  occupy  itself  with  coarseness  in  others,  and 
load  itself  and  the  memory  with  its  details? 


LETTER  VI. 

You  may  recollect  my  juvenile  weakness,  that  of 
being  a  notorious  cascade-hunter.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  motion  of  a  waterfall  which  always  made 
my  brain  spin  with  pleasure.  Impelled  by  this  passion, 
as  a  boy,  I  ransacked  the  moorland  and  mountain 
districts  of  the  north  of  England,  in  quest  of  the  beau- 
tiful but  diminutive  specimens  of  this  variety  of  natu- 
ral scenery  with  which  they  abound  ;  and  at  a  later 
period,  there  was  not  an  accessible  waterfall  within 
my  range  of  travel  from  the  Rhine  Fall  to  Tivoli,  that 
I  did  not  contrive  to  approach,  gaze  upon,  and  listen 
to  with  infinite  pleasure.  So  you  may  well  ask  what 
impression  was  made  upon  me  by  Niagara. 

I  am  glad  that  the  position  and  the  general  features 
of  this  celebrated  scene  are  too  well  known  to  need 
description,  and  that  you  will  require  none  from  me. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  present  century,  Ni- 
agara, difficult  of  access,  and  rarely  visited,  was  still 
the  cataract  of  the  wilderness.  The  red  Indian  still 
lingered  in  its  vicinity,  and  adored  the  Great  Spirit 
and  'Master  of  Life'  as  he  listened  to  the  'Thunder 
of  the  waters.'*  The  human  habitations  within  sound 
of  its  fall  were  rare  and  far  apart.  Its  few  visitors  came^ 

*Such  is  the  signification  of  the  Indian  word  Niagara, 


NIAGARA. 


65 


gazed,  and  departed  in  silence  and  awe,  having  for 
their  guide  the  child  of  the  forest  or  the  hardy  back- 
woodsman. No  staring,  painted  hotel  rose  over  the 
woods  and  obtruded  its  pale  face  over  the  edge  of  the 
boiling  river.  The  journey  to  it  from  the  east  was 
one  of  adventure  and  peril.  The  scarcely  attainable 
shore  of  Goat  Island,  lying  between  the  two  great  di- 
visions of  the  cataract,  had  only  been  trodden  by  a  few 
hardy  adventurers,  depending  upon  stout  hearts  and 
steady  hands  for  escape  from  the  imminent  perils  of 
the  passage. — How  is  it  now  ?  The  forest  has  every- 
where yielded  to  the  axe.  Hotels  with  their  snug 
shrubberies,  out-houses,  gardens,  and  paltry  establish- 
ment stare  you  in  the  face :  museums,  mills,  staircases, 
tolls,  and  grog-shops,  all  the  petty  trickery  of  Mat- 
lock-Baths  or  Ambleside,  greet  the  eye  of  the  travel- 
ler. Bridges  are  thrown  from  island  to  island ;  and 
Goat  Island  is  reached  without  adventure.  A  scheming 
company  on  the  Canadian  side,  have  planned  a  '  City 
of  the  Falls,'  to  be  filled  with  snug  cottages,  symmetri- 
cally placed,  to  let  for  the  season  ;  and  in  fine,  you 
write  to  your  friend  in  Quebec,  and  give  him  rendez- 
vous at  Niagara  for  a  certain  hour,  and  start  yourself 
from  Richmond,  in  Virginia,  for  the  point  proposed, 
with  a  moral  certainty  of  meeting  at  the  very  day  and 
hour  specified,  by  taking  advantage  of  the  improve- 
ments of  the  age,  and  the  well-arranged  modes  of  con- 
veyance by  steamers,  rail-roads,  canals,  and  coaches. 

In  short,  Niagara  is  now  as  hacknied  as  Stockgill- 
Force  or  Rydal-water,  and,  all  things  considered,  the 
observation  which  an  unimaginative  '  Eastern  man'  is 
said  to  have  made,  addressing  a  young  lady  tourist, 
who  was  gazing  breathlessly  for  the  first  time  at  the 
scene,  was  not  so  far  out  of  keeping  with  it :  '  Isn't 
it  nice,  Miss.^  Yes,  all  is  nice,  very  nice,  that  that 
active  little  biped  man  has  done  or  is  doing.' 

But  do  not  imagine  that  we  grew  peevish  at  the 
sight  of  the  blots  upon  the  landscape,  to  which  I  have 
alluded,  and  departed  in  wrath  and  disgust.  We  soon 
found  that  there  was  that  in  and  about  Niagara  which 

6* 


66 


NIAGARA. 


was  not  to  be  marred  by  busy  man  and  all  his  petty 
schemes  for  convenience  and  self-aggrandisement;  and 
I  may  truly  say,  with  regard  to  both  our  first  and 
second  visit,  and  stay  within  its  precincts,  that  we 
were  under  the  influence  of  its  spell.  While  within 
the  sound  of  its  waters,  I  will  not  say  you  become  part 
and  parcel  of  the  cataract,  but  you  find  it  difficult  to 
think,  speak,  or  dream  of  any  thing  else.  Its  vibra- 
tions pervade,  not  only  the  air  you  breathe,  the  bank 
on  which  you  sit,  the  paper  on  which  you  write,  but 
thrill  through  your  whole  frame,  and  act  upon  your 
nervous  system  in  a  remarkable,  and  it  may  almost  be 
said  an  unpleasant  manner. 

You  may  have  heard  of  individuals  coming  back 
from  the  contemplation  of  these  Falls,  with  dissatisfied 
feelings.  To  me  this  is  perfectly  incomprehensible, 
and  I  do  not  know  whether  to  envy  the  splendid  fancies 
and  expectations  of  that  class  of  travellers,  to  whom 
the  sight  of  Niagara  would  bring  disappointment,  or 
to  feel  justified  in  doubting  whether  they  have  any 
imagination  or  eye  for  natural  scenery  at  all.  How 
blank  the  world  must  be  to  them  of  objects  of  natural 
interest.    What  can  they  expect  to  see  i 

As  to  expectations,  ours  were  excited  and  warm, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  the  real  anxiety  with  which  we 
looked  out,  on  our  ascent  from  Lewistown,  for  the 
first  appearance  of  the  object  of  our  visit.  The  broad 
fathomless  blue  river,  streaked  with  foam,  which,  deeply 
sunk  in  a  colossal  channel,  hurried  to  our  rencontre, 
and  appeared  at  every  fresh  glimpse  as  we  advanced, 
swifter  and  in  greater  commotion,  was  to  us  a  guar- 
antee that  the  scene  of  its  descent  from  the  upper 
country  could  be  no  common  one.  When  about  three 
miles  from  the  village  on  the  American  side,  you  gain 
your  first  view  of  the  Falls,  together  with  the  river, 
both  above  and  below, — the  island  which  divides 
them, — and  greater  part  of  the  basin  at  their  feet. 

I  will  not  say  but  that  the  impression  of  that  first 
glance  was  heighiented  afterward  by  our  nearer  and 
reiterated  survey  of  every  portion  of  the  cataract  in 


NIAGARA. 


67 


detail ;  yet  we  all  agreed  that  we  could  even  then 
grasp  the  idea  of  its  magnitude,  and  that  all  we  had 
seen  elsewhere,  and  all  we  had  expected,  was  far  sur- 
passed by  what  was  then  shown  to  us.  And  when,  the 
following  year,  two  of  us  turned  aside  by  common  con- 
sent to  pay  a  second  visit  to  Niagara,  after  having,  in 
the  interval,  visited  many  of  the  great  falls  of  Lower 
Canada, — cataracts  in  comparison  to  which  all  Eu- 
ropean Falls  are  puerile ;  and  we  felt  our  curiosity 
excited  to  divine  what  impression  a  second  visit  would 
make — far  from  being  disappointed,  we  felt  that  before 
Niagara,  in  spite  of  its  comparative  inferiority  of  ele- 
vation, all  shrunk  to  playthings. 

It  is  not  the  mere  weight  and  volume  of  water  that 
should  give  this  far-famed  cataract  the  first  rank. 
Everj^  surrounding  object  seems  to  be  on  a  correspond- 
ing scale  of  magnificence.  The  wide  liquid  surface  of 
the  river  above,  with  its  swelling  banks,  contrasted  by 
the  deep  blue  floods  below,  as,  boiling  up  from  their 
plunge,  into  the  unfathomed  basin  they  shock  against 
one  another,  and  race  down  toward  the  distant  lake; 
the  extreme  beauty  of  the  forested  defile,  with  its  pre- 
cipices and  slopes  ;  the  colouring  of  the  waters,  which 
in  the  upper  part  of  its  descent,  is  that  of  the  emerald  ; 
the  mystery  and  thick  gloom  w  hich  hide  the  foot  of  the 
falls,  and  add  to  their  apparent  height,  and  the  floating 
clouds  of  vapour,  now  hurried  over  the  face  of  the 
landscape,  as  though  urged  by  the  breath  of  a  hurri- 
cane, and  then  slowly  ascending  and  hovering  like  a 
cloud  in  the  blue  sky,  all  combine  to  form  a  scene  in 
which  sublimity  and  picturesque  beauty  are  enchant- 
ingly  blended.  There  is  here  none  of  that  stiffness 
either  in  the  scenery,  or  the  form  and  appearance  of 
the  particular  object  of  interest,  which  engravings  too 
frequently  give  you  the  idea  of. 

Among  the  innumerable  points  of  view,  that  from 
the  precipitous  shore  of  the  river,  about  the  distance 
I  have  alluded  to,  is  the  most  satisfactory,  if  not  the 
most  strikmg.  In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Falls, 
the  points  of  interest  are  so  various,  that  if  you  would 


68 


NIAGARA. 


require  a  sketch,  I  should  not  know  which  to  select. 
The  grandest,  doubtless,  is  from  the  Canadian  shore, 
near  the  Horse-shoe  Fall ;  but  you  pass  from  one  to 
the  other,  and  everywhere  the  picture  presented  has 
no  compeer  or  rival  in  nature. 

Many  things  combined  to  make  us  prefer  choosing 
the  village  on  the  American  shore,  for  our  halting  place, 
in  preference  to  the  garish  hotel  on  the  opposite  side. 
The  greater  monotony  of  the  right-hand  division  of 
the  cataract  was  counterbalanced  by  the  grand  distant 
view  of  its  more  varied  neighbour,  and  by  the  practi- 
cability of  a  near  approach  to  both  from  Goat  Island, 
to  which  an  easy  access  is  aflbrded  by  a  boldly-con- 
structed bridge  over  the  rapids.  Besides,  we  agreed 
that  the  position  of  that  village  and  its  inns,  was  not 
only  more  rural  and  secluded,  but  that  better  taste  was 
exhibited  in  its  details. 

What  a  glorious  scene  !  To  sit  upon  the  summit 
of  the  impending  precipice  of  the  island,  and  see,  as 
we  did  the  morning  after  our  first  arrival,  the  summer 
mist  begin  to  rise  and  disengage  itself  from  the  heavy 
white  cloud  of  spray  which  rose  from  the  depth  of  the 
boiling  basin  of  the  Great  Fall  beneath  us.  By  de- 
grees, the  curtain  was  partially  removed,  revealing  the 
wall  of  slowly-descending  water  behind,  now  dimly 
descried, — as,  confounded  with  the  floating  sheets  of 
foam  and  spray  which  the  wind  of  the  mighty  cataract 
drove  backward  and  forward  over  it  like  innumerable 
clouds  of  thin  floating  gauze, — it  mocked  us  with  its 
constantly  varying  shape  and  position  ;  and  then  ap- 
pearing unveiled  with  its  sea-green  tints,  brilliantly 
illuminated  by  the  passing  sun-beam.  An  hour  after, 
and  the  mist  had  disappeared  ;  the  Falls  were  spark- 
ling in  the  bright  sunshine  ;  and  a  brilliant  Iris  was 
resting  on  the  body  of  vapour  which  the  wind  carried 
away  from  the  face  of  the  descending  columns.  The 
scene  at  sun-set,  day  after  day,  was  no  way  less  majes- 
tic, when  the  sun,  glancing  from  the  Canadian  side  of 
the  river,  lit  up  the  precipices  and  woods  of  Goat 
Island,  and  the  broad  face  of  the  American  Fall,  which 


NIAGARA. 


69 


then  glowed  like  a  wall  of  gold  ;  while  half  the  Fall 
of  the  horse-shoe,  and  the  deep  recesses  of  the  curve 
were  wrapped  in  shade.  Morning,  noon,  and  night, 
found  us  strolling  about  the  shore,  and  on  the  island, 
which  is  an  earthly  paradise. 

I  remember  the  quiet  hours  spent  there,  when  fa- 
tigued with  the  glare  of  the  hot  bright  sun,  and  the  din 
of  the  Falls,  with  peculiar  delight.  We  loved,  too,  to 
escape  from  all  those  signs  of  man's  presence,  and 
busy-bodying  to  which  I  have  alluded,  and,  burying 
ourselves  in  the  fresh,  dark,  scarce-trodden  forest  still 
covering  a  great  part  of  its  area,  to  listen  to  the  dead- 
ened roar  of  the  vast  cataracts  on  either  hand,  swelling 
on  the  air  distinct  from  every  other  sound. 

There,  seated  in  comparative  solitude,  you  catch  a 
peep,  across  a  long  irregular  vista  of  stems,  of  the 
white  vapour  and  foam.  You  listen  to  the  sharp  cry 
of  the  blue  jay,  the  tap  of  the  red-headed  woodpecker, 
and  the  playful  bark  of  the  squirrel  ;  you  scan  the 
smooth  white  boles  of  the  beech  or  birch,  checquered 
with  broad  patches  of  dark-green  moss,  the  stately 
elm  and  oak,  the  broad-leaved  maple,  the  silvery  white 
and  exquisitely  chiselled  trunk  of  the  cedar,  or  the 
decaying  trunk  of  the  huge  chesnut,  garlanded  with 
creepers  ;  but  you  will  hardly  ever  lose  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  locality.  Tlie  spell  of  Niagara  is  still  upon 
and  around  ^^ou.  You  glance  again  and  again  at  the 
white  veil  which  thickens  or  grows  dim  beyond  the 
leafy  forest : — the  rush  of  the  nearer  rapids,  the  din  of 
falling  waters,  the  murmur  of  the  echoes  answering 
the  pulsations  of  the  descending  mass,  fill  your  ears, 
and  pervade  all  nature. 

Every  thing  around  and  about  you  appears  to  reply 
to  the  Cataract,  and  to  partake  of  it,  none  more  so  than 
the  evergreen  forest  which  is  bathed  from  year  to  year 
in  the  dew  of  the  river.  These  noble  trees,  as  they 
tower  aloft  on  the  soil,  are  sustained  from  youth  to  age 
by  the  invigorating  spray  of  the  mighty  Falls.  Their 
leaves  are  steeped,  summer  after  summer,  in  the  heavy 
dew,  their  trunks  echo  the  falling  waters,  from  the  day 


70 


LAKE  ERIE. 


they  rise  from  the  sod,  to  that  in  which  they  are  shaken 
to  the  ground  ;  and  the  fibres  of  the  huge  moss-grown 
trunk,  on  which  you  sit,  prostrate  and  mouldering  on 
the  rich  mould  beneath,  bedded  in  the  fresh  grass  and 
leaves,  still  vibrate  to  the  sound  of  its  thunders,  and 
crumble  gradually  to  dust.  But  all  this  proves  nothing 
— as  a  matter-of-fact  man  might  say — but  that  I  am 
Niagara  mad.  We  have  much  before  us  and  many 
sublime  scenes,  though  none  may  vie  with  that,  before 
which  we  have  been  lingering  : — allons  ! 

On  our  departure  from  Buffalo,  the  thriving  port 
at  the  eastern  extremity  of  Lake  Erie,  an  important 
change  was  effected  in  the  previous  plans  of  our  little 
party.  These  had  in  some  measure  threatened  a  sepa- 
ration from  our  friend  Washington  Irving,  to  whom 
the  Canadian  provinces,  which  Pourtales  and  myself 
had  intended  to  take  as  our  next  step,  offered  no  par- 
ticular interest.  He  therefore  meditated  a  return  to 
New-York  by  the  Ohio.  Divers  and  kindly  meant 
were  the  attempts  repeatedly  made  to  bring  each  other 
to  adopt  unity  of  plan,  yet  without  success,  till  most 
fortunately,  a  few  hours  before  the  separation  was  to 
take  place,  an  unexpected  circumstance  was  the  means 
of  re-uniting  us  in  one  common  scheme.  We  had 
taken  our  passage  on  board  a  steamboat,  bound  for 
Detroit,  but  touching  as  usual  at  the  intermediate 
ports,  at  one  of  which,  on  the  Ohio  shore,  Mr.  Irving 
proposed  landing,  while  we  accompanied  the  vessel  to 
the  end  of  the  voyage. 

It  was  our  fortune  to  meet  on  board  with  a  gentle- 
man, the  communication  of  whose  business  and  plans 
instantly  reconciled  us  to  any  modification  of  ours 
which  might  be  necessary  to  enable  us  to  adopt  the 
same. 

The  General  Government  had  at  this  epoch  deter- 
mined to  send  out  certain  gentlemen  as  commissioners, 
to  arrange  various  matters  connected  with  the  Indian 
tribes  newly  congregated  on  the  western  frontiers. 
Prior  to  this,  experience  having  shown  the  insurmount- 
able inconveniences  and  the  evils  consequent  upon  the 


CINCINNATI. 


71 


existence  of  bodies  of  men  in  their  savage  state  in  the 
centre  of  civilization,  a  resolution  had  been  taken  by 
the  people  of  the  United  States  to  extinguish  the  claims 
of  the  Indian  tribes  to  lands  east  of  the  Mississippi,  by 
the  gradual  purchase  of  their  lands  or  reservations,  and 
to  remove  beyond  that  river.  This  project  was  now 
in  the  course  of  gradual  execution,  and  divisions  of 
many  of  the  tribes  were  already  ranged  along  the 
western  boundary  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas.  Others 
w^ere  on  the  point  of  removal.  The  commission  to 
which  I  have  alluded  was  to  be  stationed  at  the  fron- 
tier-post of  Fort  Gibson,  about  eight  hundred  miles 
up  the  Arkansas  river,  and  thither  our  new  acquain- 
tance. Judge  E.  of  Hartford,  one  of  the  three  com- 
missioners, was  proceeding  by  way  of  St  Louis,  and 
the  State  of  Missouri.  We  learned  from  him  that  from 
this  point  it  was  contemplated  to  dispatch  expeditions 
to  various  parts  of  the  unexplored  region  to  the  West, 
to  examine  the  surface  of  the  country,  and  report  upon 
the  practicability  of  any  portion  of  it  being  set  aside 
for  the  occupation  of  the  Indian  tribes  still  to  be  re- 
moved. To  the  solicitation  made  that  Mr.  Irving 
would  join  company,  and  connect  himself  with  the 
commission,  so  far  as  he  might  find  it  agreeable,  a 
prompt  acquiescence  was  yielded  on  his  part,  as  so 
doing  merely  entailed  an  extension  of  his  plans  ;  and 
as  far  as  my  comrade  and  myself  were  concerned,  the 
frank  promise  of  hearty  welcome,  if  we  would  also 
form  part  of  the  expedition  to  further  our  own  projects, 
offered  loo  much  temptation  to  be  resisted  or  rejected. 

So  the  tour  in  the  Canadas  was  relinquished  for  the 
present,  and  it  was  now — hurra  !  for  the  Far  West ! 

No  certain  intelligence  as  to  the  movements  of  others 
connected  with  the  Commission  could  be  gained,  till 
we  should  reach  Louisville  in  Kentucky,  and  landing 
at  Ashtabula,  we  had  to  repair  thither  with  all  becom- 
ing speed  by  way  of  Cleveland,  Newark,  Columbus, 
and  Cincinnati. 


72 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


LETTER  VII. 

In  a  recent  letter  I  referred  to  the  circumstances 
attending  the  early  settlement  of  New  England. 
Those  which  distinguished  the  first  colonization  of 
these  rich  regions  of  the  West  beyond  the  mountains, 
carry  with  them  a  yet  greater  degree  of  interest. 
Neither  the  history  of  the  English  colonists  in  Vir- 
ginia, nor  of  those  in  the  Eastern  States,  despite  their 
fierce  struggles  with  the  red  proprietors  of  the  soil, 
can  be  said  to  be  distinguished  by  an  equal  air  of 
romance.  The  posts  of  the  advancing  column  of  civili- 
zation in  these  instances,  were  ordinarily  pushed 
forward  with  a  degree  of  caution,  and  seldom  so 
far,  as  to  be  totally  beyond  the  reach  of  co-operation 
and  support.  Here  however  the  case  was  different. 
We  see  small  companies  of  men,  and  even  single 
individuals,  impelled  by  a  spirit  of  adventure,  and 
the  love  of  a  free  unshackled  life,  venturing  some 
hundred  of  miles  in  advance,  over  a  difficult  and  ele- 
vated mountain  barrier,  planting  themselves  fearlessl}' 
in  the  wilderness  on  the  other  side,  and  remaining, 
without  the  hope  of  aid  for  months  in  utter  solitude, 
in  a  region,  where  nothing  but  the  most  sleepless 
caution  could  secure  their  lives  against  the  merciless 
and  wily  savage. 

It  might  be  asked  by  some  of  the  tame  gentlemen 
of  Europe,  what  was  the  object  of  these  half-savages, 
and  where  the  utility  of  encountering  such  a  perilous 
state  of  exile.  Were  they  criminals  flying  from  the 
punishment  of  misdeeds  which  imperatively  obliged 
them  to  get  beyond  the  pale  of  orderly  society  ?  No. 
Was  it  sheer  necessity  ?  No.  Was  it  lust  of  gain  ? 
Not  altogether.  Love  of  glory  ?  No.  Love  of  science  ? 
Still  less.  Were  they  young  and  ignorant  of  the 
perils  ?  No,  Boone  was  forty  years  old.    More  fool 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


73 


he !  would  answer  many  a  one,  who  never  would 
comprehend  the  motives  and  impulses  of  such  vagrants. 
Yet  even  in  the  best  regulated,  most  orderly,  and 
most  civilized  state  of  society,  in  which  the  prevailing 
temper  is  to  pursue  and  to  love  a  quiet  state  of  exist- 
ence, in  which  the  variations  and  even  extraordinary 
incidents  are  so  commonplace  and  so  gentle,  as  hardly 
to  ruffle  the  monotony  of  its  course,  and  where  any 
departure  from  the  ordinary  boundaries  is  rather  set 
down  as  a  crime  than  a  virtue, — even  there  will  be 
found  individuals  in  whose  bosom  there  is  a  fire  of 
restlessness  which  cannot  endure  a  life  of  monotonous 
regularity.  In  Europe,  in  olden  time,  chivalry  with  all 
its  romance,  war,  knight-errantry,  minstrelsy,  love,  and 
nonsense,  provided  what  was  then  a  legitimate  channel 
for  those  of  this  cast;  and  the  temper  of  the  times 
increased  their  number. 

Till  lately,  war  served  the  same  purpose,  drawing 
off  the  humours  from  the  body  politic  ;  and  the  rest- 
less spirits  of  the  times  found  an  asylum  and  occupa- 
tion in  arms.  However,  in  time  of  peace  such  ex- 
citement no  longer  exists,  and  little  remains  but  the 
discipline,  which  is  wormwood  to  the  young  and  im- 
petuous. 

It  is  from  among  those  possessed  of  this  restlessness 
of  body  and  mind,  that  you  may,  in  looking  over  the 
records  of  human  actions,  cull  the  greatest  number  of 
great  men  of  all  countries  and  ages, — men  who  dare 
attempt  what  others  dare  not ;  at  the  same  time,  for 
one  individual,  who,  forsaking  the  beaten  path,  has,  by 
striking  fortuitously  into  a  more  noble  one  suited  to  his 
talents,  left  a  name  and  a  character  for  high  deeds  to 
posterity,  thousands,  nay,  tens  of  thousands,  have  only 
left  the  hackneyed  road  to  disappear  in  the  swamp,  and 
fall  into  oblivion  or  ignominy. 

At  the  present  time,  the  doors  of  the  temple  of 
Janus  remain  shut ;  chivalry  is  out  of  fashion, — ay, 
not  only  its  absurdities,  but  many  of  its  noble,  gener- 
ous, courteous,  and  Christian  graces.  The  increase 
of  population  has  glutted  the  professions;  modes  and 

VOL.  I.  7 


74 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


methods  of  distinction  for  the  restless,  which  a  century 
ago  would  have  allured  them,  are  now  worn  out. 
Travelling,  the  love  of  loconriotion,  that  great  resource 
for  the  changeful  spirit,  is  no  longer  nriade  of  distinc- 
tion. It  is  no  longer  a  solitary  being  toiling  forward 
in  doubt  and  peril,  and  earning  the  right  to  be  the  sole 
narrator  of  the  earth's  wonders,  but  whole  squadrons 
pouring  down  every  European  road.  Ladies'  maids 
and  bandboxes  are  seen  at  the  cataracts  of  the  Nile, 
and  our  wives  and  sisters  make  the  over-land  passage 
to  India.  As  to  forging  and  highway  robbery,  there 
are  now  so  many  ways  found  out  of  cheating  your  friend 
with  perfect  safety  to  your  person,  that  it  is  not  worth 
while  to  run  the  risks  of  either,  alluring  as  some  of  the 
pictures  lately  given  to  the  public  might  be. 

One  consequence  of  the  present  state  of  things  ap- 
pears to  be,  that  the  quantum  of  restlessness,  formerly 
absorbed  by  a  few  comparatively,  is  now  thrown  into 
the  composition  of  the  whole  mass,  and,  though  diluted, 
produces  strange  effects. 

Hence  these  shoals  of  travellers;  the  overcrowded 
watering-places  ;  those  new  lights  in  politics,  religion, 
and  education ;  the  innumerable  speculations  and  con- 
sequent bankruptcies  ;  the  general  impatience  of  gov- 
ernment, and  of  moral  as  well  as  physical  control. 
Hence  this  golden  age  of  roguery  and  radicalism,  cant 
and  charlatanerie  ;  disunion,  disloyalty,  want  of  faith. 
Well  might  we  say,  Alas,  for  the  times  of  chivalry ! 
How  many  men  of  the  present  day,  had  they  been 
born  under  its  star,  might  have  had  their  restlessness 
satisfied  by  giving  or  receiving  many  a  hearty  thwack 
and  bang  on  the  head,  instead  of  doing  the  mischief  to 
society  which  they  threaten.  How  many  might  have 
run  a  better  chance  of  honourable  mention  as  stalwart 
knights  and  jousters,  than  they  promise  to  do  as  politi- 
cians and  reformers. 

But  to  return  from  what  may  well  be  called  a  digres- 
sion. To  this  spirit  of  restlessness,  more  than  any 
other  passion,  it  would  seem  that  the  early  settlement 
of  Kentucky  and  the  West  is  to  be  ascribed.  The 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


75 


hap-hazard  and  in  some  measure  precarious  existence 
of  the  Virginian  and  Carolinian  frontier  settler,  was,  as 
you  will  imagine,  particularly  favourable  to  the  devel- 
opment of  this  restless  feeling. 

The  French,  who  were  the  greatest  pioneers  of  the 
country  of  the  Lakes  and  upper  Mississippi,  had  about 
the  middle  of  the  last  century  erected  a  fort  at  the 
junction  of  the  Alleghany  and  Monongahela  rivers,  where 
Pittsburg  now  stands,  for  the  protection  of  their 
trade  on  the  Ohio,  and  the  facility  of  making  outfits  ; 
yet  up  to  the  defeat  of  General  Braddock,  or  even 
ten  years  after  it,  nothing  seems  to  have  been  known 
to  the  Anglo-Americans  of  the  country  to  the  west  of 
the  mountains  and  the  south  of  the  Ohio  river.  It  is 
diflicult  for  one,  who,  like  myself,  has  seen  the  teem- 
ing population  of  the  West  at  the  present  day,  to  be- 
lieve, that  two  thirds  of  a  century  ago  no  white  man 
had  crossed  the  mountains  of  Virginia,  to  discover 
what  lay  on  the  other  side.  Yet  such  was  the  case ! 
However,  the  time  was  coming  when  this  vast  extent 
of  country  was  also  to  be  brought  under  the  dominion 
of  the  white  man,  and  be  added  to  that  rich  heritage 
which  he  should  leave  his  children. 

Ample  as  the  country  might  seem  to  be  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  other  lines  of  the 
Apalachian  chain  dividing  the  waters  of  the  West 
from  those  of  the  Atlantic,  it  was  beginning  to  be  too 
crowded  for  some  of  the  settlers.  In  their  eyes,  the 
country  was  becoming  too  thickly  settled ;  the  opera- 
tion of  the  law,  gentle  as  it  might  be,  w^as  too  severe  ; 
the  forests,  from  the  increase  of  population,  had  be- 
come two  scant  of  game — they  had  lived  too  long  in 
one  place.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  unexplored 
regions  beyond  the  mountains;  but,  that  from  that 
quarter  descended  the  bands  of  savages,  which  occa- 
sionally harried  the  higher  settlements  on  the  upper 
waters,  from  the  Susquehanna  to  the  Peedee. 

In  1749,  a  lunatic,  w^andering  as  was  his  wont 
during  his  paroxysms,  crossed  the  dividing  ridge 
beyond  the  great  valley  of  Virginia,  and  on  his  return 
asserted  that  he  had  been  upon  streams  whose  waters 


76 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


ran  to  the  West.  No  great  public  notice  seems  to  have 
been  taken  of  this  discovery.  Yet  it  is  upon  record 
that  a  reconnoitring  party,  crossing  the  mountains  in 
the  same  direction,  in  the'^year  1751,  and  falling  upon 
the  waters  of  what  is  now  Green  Brier  river,  a  tribu- 
tary of  the  Kenhawa,  found  two  solitary  white  men,  na- 
tives of  New  England,  living  on  its  banks,  though  some 
hundred  yards  distant  from  each  other.  Even  in  that 
wilderness,  human  passions  and  pertinacity  of  opinion 
had  wrought  disharmony,  and  there  they  had  lived 
apart  from  the  world  and  from  each  other,  nothing 
passing  between  them  but  the  morning  salutation,  as 
the  one  came  from  out  the  hollow  tree  which  served 
him  for  a  shelter,  and  the  other  from  his  log  hut.  The 
Virginians  subsequently  made  a  small  settlement  there, 
which  was  utterly  cut  off  in  1763  by  an  incursion  of 
the  Indians. 

It  was  in  1767  when  the  first  adventurer  from  the 
banks  of  the  Yadkin,  in  North  Carolina,  a  man  of  the 
name  of  Finlay,  came  back  to  his  family,  after  a  long 
absence,  with  accounts  of  the  marvellous  beauty  and 
riches  of  the  country  beyond  the  mountains.  He  sub- 
sequently returned  thither  the  same  year,  with  a  party 
of  which  the  celebrated  Daniel  Boone  was  one  ;  and 
from  that  time  forward,  adventurers  from  among  the 
restless  inhabitants  of  the  outskirts  of  civilization  were 
occasionally  seen  to  quit  the  vicinity  of  the  '  clearings' 
with  their  rifles,  blankets,  and  dogs,  and,  entering  the 
forests,  disappear  for  a  while  in  the  direction  of  the 
mountains. 

One  thing  is  not  to  be  lost  sight  of — the  experience 
of  one  hundred  years  and  upward  had  not  been  thrown 
away,  and  the  hardy  backwoodsman  of  this  day  had 
that  in  his  favour  which  the  New  England  settlers  had 
been  without.  The  modes  and  resources  of  Indian 
warfare  were  perfectly  known  to  him.  He  had  been 
cradled  in  the  forests,  and  had  been  brought  up  amidst 
the  alarms  of  Indian  incursions.  From  his  earliest 
youth  he  had  been  taught  the  value  of  the  rifle,  the 
most  powerful  and  convenient  weapon  in  the  world  for 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


77 


the  use  of  a  single  arm.  He  knew  the  nature  and 
resources  of  the  country,  and  unshackled  by  the  edu- 
cation or  the  prejudices  of  the  Old  World,  the  forest 
was  now  his  home. 

Still  the  hardihood,  presence  of  mind,  patience,  and 
invincible  resolution  of  these  pioneers  cannot  be  too 
highly  estimated.  I  can  conceive  the  feelings  of  won- 
der and  delight  of  these  first  solitary  adventurers, 
when,  surmounting  the  several  ridges  covered  with 
their  splendid  vegetation  of  rhododendron,  azaleas,  and 
laurels,  they  looked  down  upon  that  wilderness  of  fer- 
tility and  rich  vegetation  to  the  westward  ;  that  beau- 
tiful region,  which,  though  it  now  appeared  to  them  as 
the  land  of  paradise,  was  soon  to  verify  its  Indian  ap- 
pellation of  '  the  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground'  to  them 
also  ;  and  by  these  fearful  epithets  was  it  subsequently 
long  known  and  stigmatized. 

The  early  descriptions  extant  of  the  original  state 
and  appearance  of  this  portion  of  the  vast  valley  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  the  impressions  they  suggested,  though 
recorded  by  no  practised  hands,  have  in  them  a  truth 
and  nature  more  suited  to  the  sublimity  of  the  subject 
than  the  attempts  made  at  a  later  day  with  all  their 
labour  and  finish.  Truly,  he  who  would  portray  the 
West  must  use  other  pallet  and  pencil  than  that  of  a 
miniature  painter.  It  would  appear  that  while  the 
regions  to  the  north  of  the  Ohio  aflTorded  a  home  to 
divers  Indian  tribes,  the  wide  tract  of  country  stretch- 
ing on  the  southern  shores  toward  the  Cumberland 
mountains  and  the  great  river  Mississippi,  watered  by 
so  many  noble  streams,  was  claimed  by  none  in  parti- 
cular, but  formed  a  kind  of  hunting  ground,  in  which 
innumerable  herds  of  wild  animals  found  food  and 
covert,  and  the  bands  of  hostile  Indians  met  to  pursue 
alternately  war  and  the  chase. 

It  is  easy  to  conceive,  that  the  sight  of  those  im- 
mense  herds  of  bison,  an  animal  hitherto  unknown  to 
the  settlers,  the  troops  of  deer,  elk,  and  bears  with 
which  the  land  abounded,  should  strongly  stimulate 
men,  whose  subsistence  and  gains  had  hitherto  in  a 


78  SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


great  degree  depended  upon  the  fruits  of  the  chase. 
But  beyond  this  the  productions  and  forms  of  external 
nature  seem  to  have  struck  the  early  adventurers  with 
wonder,  when  compared  with  those  to  which  they 
were  famihar  on  their  side  of  the  mountains. 

The  unexampled  growth  of  the  ordinary  forest  trees; 
their  frequent  disposition  over  the  soil  in  open  woods, 
unencumbered  with   brushwood ;   the  interminable 
cane-brakes,  broken  only  by  the  narrow  pathways 
trodden  down  by  the  bison  and  deer  ;  the  luxuriance 
of  every  form  of  vegetation,  as  it  sprung  from  a  virgin 
soil,  whose  fertility  was  as  exhaustless  as  its  depth  was 
extraordinary — all  these  things  might  well  excite  sur- 
prise.   Then  the  fruits,  the  flowers  ; — the  magnitude 
of  single  trees  of  the  poplar  or  sycamore  species,  as 
their  mighty  shafts  rose  a  hundred  feet  into  the  air, 
bearing  with  them  their  gigantic  parasites  ;  the  nume- 
rous 'salt  licks,'  frequented  by  game  of  every  species; 
the  abundant  springs  and  streams,  and  the  extreme 
beauty  of  the  sward  in  the  more  open  country  ;  and 
the  discovery  in  the  depths  of  untrodden  forests  of 
huge  artificial  mounds  and  fortifications,  covered  with 
the  growth  of  centuries,  and  the  extraordinary  relics 
of  a  race  of  enormous  animals  buried  under  the  soil — 
all  combined  to  produce  a  species  of  unwonted  excite- 
ment, and  had  their  effect  in  nerving  these  men  to  the 
endurance  of  their  perilous  situation,  as  in  small  par- 
ties, or  even  singly,  they  sat  dow^n  to  spend  days  and 
months  in  the  wilderness,  totally  cut  oflf  from  all  com- 
munication with  their  race.    Such  was  the  lot  of  Fin- 
lay,  Boone,  and  others  of  the  same  stamp  and  mould, 
whose  names  will  be  for  ever  identified  with  the  disco- 
very and  settlement  of  the  West.    From  the  perti- 
nacity with  which  these  men  would  cling  to  their 
discovery,  it  would  almost  seem  as  if  their  hearts  mis- 
gave them,  that  the  whole  might  prove  a  delusion,  and 
that  if  they  returned  over  the  mountains,  they  would 
never  be  able  to  find  that  rich,  and  pleasant,  and  fruit- 
ful^land  again. 

However,  the  news  soon  spread  among  the  frontier 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


79 


settlements  of  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas.  Stronger 
parties  ascended  and  traversed  the  ridges  of  the  Alle- 
ghany.   The  singular  breaks,  called  Gaps,  so  frequent 
in  them,  were  explored  ;  and  within  five  or  six  years 
after  Boone's  first  passage  of  the  mountains,  during 
which  he  and  his  companions  had  repeatedly  made 
fearful  experiences  of  the  terrors  of  this  terrestrial 
paradise — a  colony,  in  which  his  wife  and  children 
were  included,  was  settled  in  the  newly  discovered 
region.    From  this  time  up  to  the  victory  of  General 
Wayne,  on  the  Miami,  over  the  western  savages,  the 
country  lay  open  to  a  steady  tide  of  immigration 
from  the  east.    But  this  interval  of  twenty  years, 
and  especially  the  earlier  part,  was  one  of  infinite 
trouble  and  disaster  to  the  new  colonists  both  in 
Kentucky  and  Tennessee.    That  species  of  security 
which  was  consequent  upon  the  first  adventurers  on 
the  w^estern  side  of  the  mountains  being  few  in  num- 
ber, unexpected  by  the  savages,  and  without  any  fixed 
place  of  abode, — a  security  which  had  in  many  in- 
stances failed  after  a  short  time  to  be  available,  from 
the  naturally  observant  and  practised  eye  of  the 
Indian  in  following  any  uncommon  trail ;  this  was, 
of  course,  altogether  at  an  end,  from  the  moment  that 
parties  of  any  number  crossed  the  frontier,  and  com- 
menced permanent  settlements  in  the  West.  Self- 
defence  was,  therefore,  the  first  object  of  the  intrud- 
ers.   The  new  settlers  had  decided  to  live  beyond 
the  arm  and  government  of  the  parent  State,  and  they 
were  consequently  also  beyond  its  protection,  and  had 
to  depend  entirely  upon  the  goodness  of  God,  and  the 
vigilance  of  their  own  character  and  courage.  Their 
little  assemblage  of  log  cabins  was  accordingly  sur- 
rounded by  a  tall  strong  stockade,  to  serve  as  a  place 
of  retreat  and  defence. 

And  in  such  isolated  positions,  open  to  the  guile  of 
the  implacable  Indian,  exposed  to  famine  from  the  de- 
struction of  their  crops  in  the  neighbourhood, — worn 
out  with  sickness  and  constant  watching, — frequently 
attacked,  and  never  sure  of  the  duration  of  a  time  of 
apparent  quiet, — murders  and  burnings  on  every  side, 


80 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


did  the  mothers  of  Kentucky  brood  over  their  little 
ones.  Many  of  the  infant  colonies  were  exterminated 
root  and  branch,  more  were  deserted,  and  the  panic- 
struck  inhabitants  retraced  their  steps  from  the  'Dark 
and  Bloody  Ground.'  To  single  combats,  and  skir- 
mishes between  the  colonists  and  small  marauding  par- 
ties of  the  Indians,  followed  conflicts  between  larger 
parties,  gathered  together  for  the  attack  and  defence  of 
a  given  post;  and  more  than  once  the  numbers  of  the 
savages  prevailed  over  the  whites,  and  the  strength 
and  best  defence  of  the  colony  seemed  to  be  cut  down 
to  the  ground.  Prior  to  the  year  1790,  it  was  calcu- 
lated that  not  less  than  three  thousand  persons  were 
murdered,  or  carried  into  captivity  in  the  west.  Yet 
they  struggled  on.  They  were  a  peculiar  race,  and 
seemed  to  be  fully  nerved  to  their  task.  The  pliancy 
of  the  female  character,  and  the  facility  with  which 
woman,  despite  her  softer  sex,  will  rise  superior  to 
the  weakness  of  her  nature,  when  circumstances  im- 
peratively demand  sacrifice  and  exertion,  were  never 
more  strikingly  displayed.  She  watched  and  learned 
to  read  the  signs  which  betokened  danger,  and  to  aid 
in  repelling  it.  The  very  horses,  dogs,  and  cattle 
scented  the  Indians,  and  gave  warning  of  their  ap- 
proach by  their  signs  of  mute  terror. 

Still,  numbers  poured  into  the  country,  allured  by 
the  known  fertility  of  the  soil ;  and  where  one  settle- 
ment had  been  abandoned  or  destroyed,  many  sprung 
up.  Wagon  after  wagon  was  seen  climbing  up  the 
eastern  steep ;  the  proprietors  cast  their  last  look  upon 
the  steril  hills  and  exhausted  fields  of  the  old  States, 
and  then  passing  down  the  laurel-covered  ridges  to 
the  land  of  promise,  with  slaves,  children,  and  cattle, 
chose  their  ground,  and  fixed  themselves  in  the  wilder- 
ness. The  parents,  perchance,  might  look  back  in  the 
hour  of  difficulty  to  the  land  where  they  had  lived, 
hardly,  perhaps,  but  in  security,  with  something  like 
longing  and  repentance  ;  but  the  children  grew  up  in 
the  midst  of  the  excitement  of  their  position,  with  in- 
creasing fondness  for  the  soil,  and  attachment  to  their 


SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


81 


new  homes.  Thus,  farm  after  farm  was  brought  into 
cultivation,  and  the  Indian  receded,  till  from  their  num- 
bers and  position,  those  farthest  removed  from  the 
hostile  lines  began  to  taste  the  blessings  of  peace  and 
security  ;  hamlets  succeeded  to  single  houses  ;  villages 
to  towns;  roads  were  made,  and  magistrates  appointed, 
and  the  infant  country  taken  under  the  wing  of  the 
parent  State. 

Still  it  was  not  till  toward  the  close  of  the  century, 
that  there  was  peace  on  its  borders.  The  Ohio,  which 
formed  the  principal  highway  of  the  immigrants,  was 
for  many  years  the  scene  of  the  most  horrible  tragedies, 
the  Indian  still  making  his  incursions  from  the  north- 
ward, and  using  every  art  to  harass  the  intruders. 
Open  tracks,  and  decoys,  in  which  the  m.iserable 
whites  already  in  their  power  were  constrained  under 
pain  of  death  to  allure  the  passage  boats  by  piteous 
appeals  to  their  compassion,  and  outcries  lor  assist- 
ance, to  approach  the  shore  and  fall  into  certain  de- 
struction, were  alternately  resorted  to,  till  the  strength 
of  the  Indian  confederacies  was  broken  by  signal  de- 
feat and  dispersion  to  a  distance. 

As  soon  as  the  country  found  peace  and  repose, 
the  claims  of  the  young  for  education,  and  that  of  all 
classes  for  the  regular  protection  of  the  law,  and  for 
religious  instruction,  were  felt  to  be  urgent. 

Hitherto  the  want  of  some  power  to  repress  irregu- 
larities and  punish  the  crimes,  which  could  not  fail  to 
spring  up  with  the  increase  of  inhabitants,  and  under 
circumstances  which  allured,  not  only  the  enter- 
prising, but  the  vicious  of  the  parent  States  to  settle 
beyond  the  m.ountains,  seems  to  have  given  origin  to  a 
compact  which  was  made  occasionally  among  the  more 
sober  of  the  male  inhabitants  of  each  district,  by  which 
they  assumed  the  power  both  of  deciding  upon  the 
crimes  of  individuals  and  of  awarding  punishment. 
The  regulators,  as  they  were  called,  I  have  every  rea- 
son to  believe,  were  an  eminently  useful  race  of  men, 
and,  it  may  be  maintained,  in  most  instances  just 
withal;  though  it  must  be  owned  that  the  summary 


82  SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST. 


mode  in  which  cases  were  disposed  of, and  even  capital 
punishment  administered  without  legal  form,  isaUttle 
startling  to  the  sticklers  for  fixed  laws,  judge,  and 
jury.  As  to  religion,  though  many  of  the  fathers  of 
Kentucky  seem  to  have  been  very  far  from  immoral 
characters — their  code  seems  to  have  been  more  that 
of  the  Indian  whom  they  dispossessed,  divested  of 
gross  superstition,  than  that  of  the  Christian ; — and 
for  that  matter,  Indian  religion  is  of  far  greater  diffu- 
sion through  Christendom  than  might  be  imagined. 
The  fashionable  religion  of  the  day  is  neither  more 
nor  less.  Yet  no  sooner  were  families  united,  than  a 
call  for  something  higher  was  heard.  The  want  of  a 
more  settled  provision  for  the  spiritual  guidance  and 
instruction  of  the  people,  and  their  scattered  position 
over  such  a  vast  extent  of  surface,  gave  origin  to 
the  '  Camp-meetings'  of  which  you  have  doubtless 
heard.  That  mode  of  engaging  in  social  worship  was 
not  only  irreprehensible,  but  in  every  way  praise- 
worthy, considering  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  in- 
stituted, and  the  temper  in  which  it  was  attended. 
But  it  is  with  that  as  with  every  thing  human  ;  and 
what  was  good  and  perhaps  necessary  at  the  time,  is 
now,  under  a  very  different  state  of  things,  decidedly 
bad  in  most  cases.  Instead  of  the  simple  gathering  to- 
gether of  a  number  of  families  under  the  thick  shade 
of  the  forestj  from  every  quarter  of  the  compass,  to  one 
common  centre,  to  listen  to  the  word  of  God,  offer  Him 
their  common  supplication  and  thanksgiving,  and  have 
the  sacraments  administered  in  sincerity  and  sobriety  ; 
you  may  now  see,  assembled  under  the  same  name, 
and  often  in  parts  of  the  country  where  you  w^ould 
suppose  that  such  a  proceeding  was  wholly  unneces- 
sary, a  crowd  of  thousands,  most  of  whom,  it  may  be 
said,  without  being  accused  of  uncharitableness,  meet 
for  any  purpose  but  that  of  devotion.  Even  the  de- 
votion  that  is  seen  in  such  assemblages,  takes  the  air 
of  religious  excitement ;  and  as  to  the  rest,  intrigue, 
dissipation,  electioneering,  chaffering,  and  cheating, 
hold  their  festival  at  the  modern  Camp-meeting.  In 


THE  OHIO. 


83 


fact,  that  arrangement  as  little  suits  the  present  settled 
state  of  the  country,  as  the  system  of  the  regulators 
would.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  these  self-appointed 
judges  have  long  ago  made  way  for  men  of  worship 
and  learning,  who  show  reason  for  their  authority, 
whatever  they  may  do  for  their  decisions.  lam  aware 
however,  that  something  akin  to  the  regulators  still 
exists  in  certain  out-of-the-way  corners  of  the  Missis- 
sippi valley. 

As  to  the  fine  race  of  backwoodsmen,  of  whom 
Boone  seems  by  common  consent  to  have  been  con- 
sidered the  patriarch,  they  were  evidently  raised  for 
a  special  purpose,  and  that  purpose  accomplished,  the 
country  was  two  narrow  for  them. 

We  see  him,  the  battle  fought,  and  the  country 
gained,  entangled  in  the  snares  of  war,  driven  from 
that  small  portion  of  the  rich  heritage  he  and  his 
fellows  had  secured  to  his  countrymen,  which  he 
claimed  as  personal  property,  and  in  his  old  age, 
disgusted  with  the  forms  and  hollow  nature  of  society, 
once  more  shouldering  his  axe  and  rifle,  turning  his 
back  upon  the  thickly  peopled  region,  and  followed 
by  his  wife,  who,  thirty  years  before,  had  been  his 
companion  in  his  first  removal,  seeking  an  asylum  in 
the  Far- West,  beyond  the  Mississippi,  where  he  died 
full  of  years  in  1818. 


LETTER  VIIL 

I  NOW  resume  the  thread  of  our  personal  adventures. 
Our  stay  at  Cincinnati  was  only  of  two  days'  dura- 
tion. We  found  the  good  citizens  of  that  rising  and 
flourishing  city  busily  ruminating  over  the  first  edition 
of  a  well-known  picture  of  their  domestic  manners, 
which  the  English  press  had  just  sent  forth  for  their 
especial  benefit.    Whether  the  compote  was  justly 


84  THE  OHIO. 

and  wisely  compounded,  I  was  in  no  way  enabled  to 
judge  at  the  time,  but  it  was  very  evident  from  the  wry 
faces  on  all  sides,  and  the  aroused  spirit  of  indignation, 
that  the  bitter  herbs  predominated  over  the  sweet. 
For  the  rest,  such  was  the  crowded  state  of  the  only 
large  hotel  in  the  place,  two  having  been  burnt  in  the 
course  of  the  spring,  that  we  deemed  ourselves  fortu- 
nate to  fine  a  speedy  opportunity  of  departure  in  one 
of  the  splendid  steamboats  with  which  the  landing 
place  was  crowded. 

Our  next  halting- pi  ace  was  Louisville,  another  large 
and  thriving  city,  situated  on  the  Kentucky  shore,  just 
above  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio.  Its  position  on  one  of 
the  great  bends  of  the  river,  with  the  islands  and 
rapids  below,  forms  one  of  the  most  striking  among 
all  the  beautiful  scenes  with  which  the  Ohio  abounds. 
Here  we  immediately  took  our  passage  for  St.  Louis 
on  the  Mississippi,  seven  hundred  miles  distant,  on 
board  another  steamboat,  but  were  ultimately  de- 
tained two  or  three  days  by  some  disarrangement  in 
the  machinery. 

The  Ohio  truly  merits  the  title  of  'La  belle  Rivere,^ 
which  was  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  first  French  set- 
lers.  Whether  you  see  it  from  the  summits  of  the  little 
bluflTs,  through  which  it  has  delved  a  deep  broad  bed 
in  this  upper  part  of  its  course,  filling  the  vale  with 
its  expanded  waters,  and  laving  the  edge  of  those  rich 
patches  of  alluvial  ground  on  w^hich  the  hand  of  man 
has  spread  the  sunshine  of  cultivation  among  the  over- 
shadowing woods,  or  from  the  deck  of  the  floating 
palace,  which  bears  you  with  marvellous  rapidity  from 
basin  to  basin,  and  point  to  point,  it  is  always  *  the 
beautiful  river.'  Its  current,  at  the  time  we  descended 
it,  was  gentle,  and  comparatively  clear,  the  waters 
being  very  low.  Yet  six  months  earlier,  the  whole  of 
the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  from  Pittsburg  to  the  Missis- 
sippi, had  been  the  theatre  of  such  devastation  and 
distress,  from  the  extraordinary  floods,  as  to  be  almost 
incredible  to  those  who,  like  ourselves,  only  saw  the 
river  flowing  gently  within  its  ordinary  bounds.  It 


THE  OHIO. 


85 


was  difficult  to  conceive,  that  such  a  wide  broad  bed, 
sunk  thirty  or  forty  feet  below  the  edge  of  the  perpen- 
dicular banks  of  the  levels  should  ever  be  insufficient 
to  contain  its  water.  But  in  the  month  of  February  of 
this  year,  after  the  fall  of  excessive  rains  on  the  moun- 
tains, at  the  head  of  the  Alleghany  river,  the  junction 
of  which  with  the  Monongahela  at  Pittsburg  forms  the 
Ohio,  the  waters  rose  foot  by  foot,  and  hour  by  hour,  till 
the  whole  country  was  inundated.  The  flood  attained 
its  height  at  Pittsburg  on  the  11th,  and  at  the  Falls 
on  the  19th,  moving  at  the  rate  of  about  one  hundred 
miles  each  day,  and  bearing  forward  the  accumulated 
produce  of  a  thousand  farms,  mills,  and  villages.  At 
Cincinnati  the  waters  rose  sixty-four  feet  perpendicular 
above  low  water  mark.  A  still  greater  flood  is  on  record 
as  having  happened  in  the  year  1772,  before  the  set- 
tling of  the  country,  but  none  since.  The  fertility  of 
spring  and  summer  had  done  much  to  remedy  and  con- 
ceal the  devastation  caused  by  this  terrible  visitation, 
yet  many  convincing  signs  remained  of  its  power. 

The  time  of  our  detention  was  as  pleasantly  spent 
as  circumstances  admitted  of,  but  we  were  anxious  to 
proceed,  having  much  in  prospect  in  another  region 
before  the  close  of  the  year.  The  shallowness  of  the 
water  in  the  rapids  not  admitting  the  descent  of  even 
the  smaller  steamboats,  we  were  constrained  to  pass 
through  the  newly  constructed  canal,  which,  by  the 
aid  of  three  noble  locks  at  the  lower  end,  secures  the 
uninterrupted  navigation  of  the  entire  river  for  vessels 
of  moderate  burden,  without  the  delay  of  unloading, 
portage,  and  reloading,  which  was  formerly  necessary. 
All  obstacles  overcome,  we  found  ourselves  once  more 
fairly  afloat  on  the  bosom  of  the  river,  and  straightway 
proceeded  on  our  voyage.  At  the  lower  extremity  of 
the  canal,  and  before  the  small  towns  in  the  immediate 
vicinity,  we  left  thirty  or  forty  of  the  most  splendid 
steamers  of  the  first  class,  waiting  for  a  rise  in  the 
water. 

The  changes  which  the  successful  adoption  of  navi- 
gation by  steam  has  operated  in  a  very  limited  space 
VOL.  r.  8 


86 


THE  OHIO. 


of  time  upon  the  face  of  the  wide  regions  watered  by 
the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries,  are  doubtless  among 
the  most  extraordinary  ever  achieved  by  human  agency. 

Many  things  combined  to  make  the  year  1811  the 
annus  miribilisof  the  West.  During  the  earher  months, 
the  waters  of  many  of  the  great  rivers  overflowed 
their  banks  to  a  vast  extent,  and  the  whole  country 
was  in  many  parts  covered  from  blufl"  to  bluff.  Un- 
precedented sickness  followed.  A  spirit  of  change,  and 
a  restlessness  seemed  to  pervade  the  very  inhabitants 
of  the  forest.  A  countless  multitude  of  squirrels,  obey- 
ing some  great  and  universal  impulse,  which  none  can 
know  but  the  Spirit  that  gave  them  being,  left  their 
reckless  and  gambolling  life,  and  their  ancient  places 
of  retreat  in  the  north,  and  were  seen  pressing  forward 
by  tens  of  thousands  in  a  deep  and  sober  phalanx  to 
the  south.  No  obstacles  seemed  to  check  this  extra- 
ordinary and  concerted  movement :  the  word  had 
been  given  them  to  go  forth,  and  they  obeyed  it, 
though  multitudes  perished  in  the  broad  Ohio,  which 
lay  in  their  path.  The  splendid  comet  of  that  year 
long  continued  to  shed  its  twilight  over  the  forests, 
and,  as  the  autumn  drew  to  a  close,  the  whole  Valley 
of  the  Mississippi,  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Gulf,  was 
shaken  to  its  centre  by  continued  earthquakes.  It  was 
at  this  very  epoch,  in  which  so  many  natural  phenomena 
were  combining  to  spread  wonder  and  awe,  that  man, 
too,  in  the  exercise  of  that  power  with  which  his  Cre- 
ator has  endowed  him,  was  making  his  first  essay  in 
that  region,  of  an  art,  the  natural  course  and  further 
perfection  of  which  were  destined  to  bring  about  yet 
greater  changes  than  those  effected  by  the  flood  and 
the  earthquake  ;  and  at  the  same  time  that  the  latter 
were  agitating  the  surface,  the  very  first  steamboat  was 
seen  descending  the  great  rivers,  and  the  awe-struck 
Indian  on  the  banks  beheld  the  Pinelore"^  flying 
through  the  turbid  waters. 

From  the  time  of  the  battle  of  the  Miami,  to  which  I 


*  The  Choctaw  name  for  the  steamboat,  literally  *  fire-canoe.' 


THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST.  87 


alluded  in  my  last,  up  to  this  epoch,  the  number  of 
inhabitants  in  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  Ohio,  and  the 
adjoining  States,  had  gone  on  increasing  with  aston- 
ishing rapidity,  and  swarms  were  pressing  forward 
from  the  new  settlements  even  beyond  the  Mississippi. 
The  banks  of  the  Ohio  and  its  tributaries  were  covered 
with  innumerable  farms ;  and  rafts,  and  flat-boats, 
and  barges  of  every  description,  laden  with  the  pro- 
duce, floated  upon  its  wide  surface,  toward  the  general 
market  of  the  West,  New  Orleans. 

Besides  the  barges  and  vessels  of  heavy  burden, 
which  made  their  long  annual  voyage  to  and  from  that 
city,  the  river  was  covered,  particularly  in  time  of 
flood,  by  thousands  of  whimsical  machines,  for  boats 
they  could  hardly  be  called,  most  of  which  have  now 
disappeared.  The  greater  part  of  these  rude  con- 
structions were  broken  up,  sold,  or  abandoned  when 
the  end  of  the  voyage  was  attained,  and  the  produce 
which  they  bore  down  to  the  general  market  disposed 
of ;  after  which  the  settler  returned  to  his  farm,  a  thou- 
sand or  fifteen  hundred  miles  oflT,  as  he  could.  From 
seventy  to  eighty  days  were  consumed  in  thus  effecting 
the  long  and  monotonous  voyage  from  Pittsburg  to 
New-Orleans.  But  now  a  change  was  to  be  wrought 
in  the  facilities  of  communication  between  countries  so 
far  apart,  upon  which  no  one  could  have  calculated, 
and  the  vast  results  of  which  are  not  yet  fully  devel- 
oped. 

Circumstances  gave  me  the  opportunity  of  becom- 
ing acquainted  with  the  particulars  of  the  very  first 
voyage  of  a  steamer  in  the  west,  and  their  extraordi- 
nary character  will  be  my  apology  to  you  for  filling  a 
page  of  this  sheet  with  the  follo  wing  brief  relation. 

The  complete  success  attending  the  experiments  in 
steam  navigation  made  on  the  Hudson  and  the  adjoin- 
ing waters  previous  to  the  year  1809,  turned  the 
attention  of  the  principal  projectors  to  the  idea  of  its 
application  on  the  western  rivers ;  and  in  the  month  of 
April  of  that  year,  Mr.  Roosevelt  of  New  York,  pursu- 
ant to  an  agreement  with  Chancellor  Livingston  and 


88       THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST. 


Mr.  Fulton,  visited  those  rivers,  with  the  purpose  of 
forming  an  opinion  whether  they  admitted  of  steam 
navigation  or  not.  At  this  time  two  boats,  the  North 
River  and  the  Clermont,  were  running  on  the  Hud- 
son. Mr.  R.  surveyed  the  rivers  from  Pittsburg  to 
New-Orleans,  and  as  his  report  was  favourable,  it  was 
decided  to  build  a  boat  at  the  former  town.  This  w^as 
done  under  his  direction,  and  in  the  course  of  1811 
the  first  boat  was  launched  on  the  waters  of  the  Ohio. 
It  was  called  the  *  New  Orleans,'  and  intended  to  ply 
between  Natchez  in  the  State  of  Mississippi,  and  the 
city  whose  name  it  bore.  In  October  it  left  Pittsburg 
for  its  experimental  voyage.  On  this  occasion  no 
freight  or  passengers  were  taken,  the  object  being 
merely  to  bring  the  boat  to  her  station.  Mr.  R.,  his 
young  wife  and  family,  Mr.  Baker  the  engineer,  An- 
drew Jack  the  pilot,  and  six  hands,  with  a  few  domes- 
tics, formed  her  whole  burden.  There  were  no  wood- 
yards  at  that  time,  and  constant  delays  were  unavoida- 
ble. When,  as  related,  Mr.  R.  had  gone  down  the 
river  to  reconnoitre,  he  had  discovered  two  beds  of 
coal,  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  below  the 
Rapids  at  Louisville,  and  now  took  tools  to  work  them, 
intending  to  load  the  vessel  with  the  coal,  and  to  em- 
ploy it  as  fuel,  instead  of  constantly  detaining  the  boat 
while  wood  was  procured  from  the  banks. 

Late  at  night  on  the  fourth  day  after  quitting  Pitts- 
burg, they  arrived  in  safety  at  Louisville,  having  been 
but  seventy  hours  descending  upward  of  seven  hundred 
miles.  The  novel  appearance  of  the  vessel,  and  the 
fearful  rapidity  with  which  it  made  its  passage  over  the 
broad  reaches  of  the  river,  excited  a  mixture  of  terror 
and  surprise  among  many  of  the  settlers  on  the  banks, 
whom  the  rumour  of  such  an  invention  had  never 
reached  ;  and  it  is  related  that  on  the  unexpected  arri- 
val of  the  boat  before  Louisville,  in  the  course  of  a  fine 
still  moonlight  night,  the  extraordinary  sound  which 
filled  the  air  as  the  pent-up  steam  was  suffered  to 
escape  from  the  valves  on  rounding  to,  produced  a 
general  alarm,  and  multitudes  in  the  town  rose  from 


THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST.  89 


their  beds  to  ascertain  the  cause.  1  have  heard  that 
the  general  impression  among  the  good  Kentuckians 
was,  that  the  comet  had  fallen  into  the  Ohio ;  but  this 
does  not  rest  upon  the  same  foundation  as  the  other 
facts  which  I  lay  before  you,  and  which,  I  may  at 
once  say,  I  had  directly  from  the  lips  of  the  parties 
themselves.  The  small  depth  of  water  in  the  Rapids 
prevented  the  boat  from  pursuing  her  voyage  immedi- 
ately ;  and  during  the  consequent  detention  of  three 
weeks  in  the  upper  part  of  the  Ohio,  several  trips  were 
successfully  made  between  Louisville  and  Cincinnati, 
In  fine,  the  waters  rose,  and  in  the  course  of  the  last 
week  in  November,  the  voyage  was  resumed,  the 
depth  of  water  barely  admitting  their  passage. 

When  they  arrived  about  five  miles  above  the  Yellow 
Banks,  they  moored  the  boat  opposite  to  the  first  vein 
of  coal,  which  was  on  the  Indiana  side,  and  had  been 
purchased  in  the  interim  of  the  State  government. 
They  found  a  large  quantity  already  quarried  to  their 
hand,  and  conveyed  to  the  shore  by  depredators  who 
had  not  found  means  to  carry  it  oflT,  and  with  this  they 
commenced  loading  the  boat.  While  thus  engaged, 
our  voyagers  w^ere  accosted  in  great  alarm  by  the 
squatters  of  the  neighbourhood,  who  inquired  if  they 
had  not  heard  strange  noises  on  the  river  and  in  the 
woods  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  day,  and  per- 
ceived the  shores  shake — insisting  that  they  had  re- 
peatedly felt  the  earth  tremble. 

Hitherto  nothing  extraordinary  had  been  perceived. 
The  following  day  they  pursued  their  monotonous 
voyage  in  those  vast  solitudes.  The  weather  was  ob- 
served to  be  oppressively  hot ;  the  air  misty,  still,  and 
dull ;  and  though  the  sun  was  visible,  like  a  glowing 
ball  of  copper,  his  rays  hardly  shed  more  than  a 
mournful  twilight  on  the  surface  of  the  water.  Even- 
ing drew  nigh,  and  with  it  some  indications  of  what 
was  passing  around  them  became  evident.  And  as  they 
sat  on  deck,  they  ever  and  anon  heard  a  rushing  sound 
and  violent  splash,  and  saw  large  portions  of  the  shore 
tearing  away  from  the  land  and  falling  into  the  river. 

8* 


90       THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST. 

It  was,  as  my  informant  said,  '  an  awful  day  ;  so  still, 
that  you  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop  on  the  deck/ 
They  spoke  little,  for  every  one  on  board  appeared 
thunderstruck.  The  comet  had  disappeared  about 
this  time,  which  circumstance  was  noticed  with  awe 
by  the  crew. 

The  second  day  after  their  leaving  the  Yellow  Banks, 
the  sun  rose  over  the  forests  the  same  dim  ball  of  fire, 
and  the  air  was  thick,  dull,  and  oppressive  as  before. 
The  portentous  signs  of  this  terrible  natural  convulsion 
continued  and  increased.  The  pilot,  alarmed  and  con- 
fused, affirmed  that  he  was  lost,  as  he  found  the  chan- 
nel everywhere  altered ;  and  where  he  had  hitherto 
known  deep  water,  there  lay  numberless  trees  with 
their  roots  upward.  The  trees  were  seen  waving  and 
nodding  on  the  bank,  without  a  wind  ;  but  the  adven- 
turers had  no  choice  but  to  continue  their  route.  To- 
w^ards  evening  they  found  themselves  at  a  loss  for  a 
place  of  shelter.  They  had  usually  brought  to  under 
the  shore,  but  everywhere  they  saw  the  high  banks 
disappearing,  overwhelming  many  a  flat-boat  and  raft, 
from  which  the  owners  had  landed  and  made  their  es- 
cape. A  large  island  in  mid-channel,  which  was 
selected  by  the  pilot  as  the  better  alternative,  was 
sought  for  in  vain,  having  disappeared  entirely.  Thus 
in  doubt  and  terror,  they  proceeded  hour  after  hour 
till  dark,  when  they  found  a  small  island,  and  rounded 
to,  mooring  themselves  to  the  foot  of  it.  Here  they 
lay,  keeping  watch  on  deck  during  the  long  autumnal 
night — listening  to  the  sound  of  the  waters  which 
roared  and  gurgled  horribly  around  them  ;  and  hearing, 
from  time  to  time,  the  rushing  earth  slide  from  the 
shore,  and  the  commotion  as  the  falling  mass  of  earth 
and  trees  was  swallowed  up  by  the  river.  The  lady 
of  the  party,  a  delicate  female,  who  had  just  been  con- 
fined on  board  as  they  lay  off  Louisville,  was  fre- 
quently awakened  from  her  restless  slumber  by  the  jar 
given  to  the  furniture  and  loose  articles  in  the  cabin, 
as,  several  times  in  the  course  of  the  night,  the  shock  of 
the  passing  earthquake  was  communicated  from  the 


THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST.  91 


island  to  the  bows  of  the  vessel.  It  was  a  long  night, 
but  morning  dawned  and  showed  them  that  they  were 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.  The  shores  and  the 
channel  were  now  equally  unrecognizable,  for  every 
thing  seemed  changed.  About  noon  that  day  they 
reached  the  small  town  of  New  Madrid,  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Mississippi.  Here  they  found  the  inha- 
bitants in  the  greatest  distress  and  consternation  ;  part 
of  the  population  had  fled  in  terror  to  the  higher 
grounds,  others  prayed  to  be  taken  on  board,  as  the 
earth  was  opening  in  fissures  on  every  side,  and  their 
houses  hourly  falhng  around  them. 

Proceeding  from  thence,  they  found  the  Mississippi, 
at  all  times  a  fearful  stream,  now  unusually  swollen, 
turbid  and  full  of  trees,  and  after  many  days  of  great 
danger,  though  they  felt  and  perceived  no  more  of  the 
earthquakes,  they  reached  their  destination  at  Natchez, 
at  the  close  of  the  first  week  in  January,  1812,  to  the 
great  astonishment  of  all,  the  escape  of  the  boat  hav- 
ing been  considered  an  impossibility. 

At  that  time  you  floated  for  three  or  four  hundred 
miles  on  the  rivers  without  seeing  a  human  habitation. 

Such  was  the  voyage  of  the  first  steamer.  The  na- 
tural convulsion,  which  commenced  at  the  time  of  her 
descent,  has  been  but  slightly  alluded  to,  but  will 
never  be  forgotten  in  the  history  of  the  Vfest ;  and  the 
changes  wrought  by  it  throughout  the  whole  alluvial 
region  through  which  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  pour 
their  waters,  were  perhaps  as  remarkable  as  any  on 
record.  We  hear  less  of  its  effects,  because  the  region 
in  w^hich  they  occurred  was  of  such  vast  extent  and  so 
thinly  peopled.  That  part  of  the  alluvial  country 
which  is  contiguous  to  the  point  of  junction  of  the 
two  rivers,  and  especially  the  vicinity  of  New  Madrid, 
seems  to  have  been  the  centre  of  the  convulsion. 
There,  during  the  years  1811  and  1812,  the  earth 
broke  into  innumerable  fissures,  the  church-yard,  with 
its  dead,  was  torn  from  the  bank,  and  engulfed  in 
the  turbid  stream.  To  the  present  day  it  would  appear 
that  frequent  slight  shocks  of  earthquakes  are  there 


92      THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST. 

felt  ;  and  it  is  asserted  that  in  the  vast  swamp  at  the 
back  of  the  town,  strange  sounds  may  at  times  be 
heard,  as  of  some  mighty  caldron  bubbling  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth.  Along  the  banks  of  the  river, 
thousands  of  acres  with  their  gigantic  growth  of  forest 
and  cane  were  swallowed  up,  and  lakes  and  ponds  in- 
numerable were  formed.  The  earth,  in  many  parts, 
was  observed  to  burst  suddenly  open,  and  jets  of  sand, 
mud,  and  water,  to  shoot  up  into  the  air.  The  beds 
of  these  giant  streams  seemed  totally  overturned  ; 
islands  disappeared,  and  in  many  parts  the  course  of 
the  river  was  completely  changed.  Great  inunda- 
tions were  the  consequence.  The  clear  waters  of  the 
St.  Francis  were  obstructed  ;  the  ancient  channel  de- 
stroyed, and  the  river  spread  over  a  vast  tract  of 
swamp.  In  many  places  the  gaping  earth  unfolded  its 
secrets,  and  the  bones  of  the  gigantic  Mastodon  and 
Ichthyosaurus,  hidden  within  its  bosom  for  ages,  were 
brought  to  the  surface.  Boats  and  arks  without  num- 
ber, were  swallowed  up  ;  some  buried  by  the  falling 
in  of  the  banks,  others  dragged  down  with  the  islands 
to  which  they  were  anchored.  And  finally,  you  may 
still  meet  and  converse  with  those,  who  were  on  the 
mighty  river  of  the  West  when  the  whole  stream  ran 
towards  its  sources  for  an  entire  hour,  and  then  re- 
suming its  ordinary  course,  hurried  them  helpless  into 
its  whirling  surface  with  accelerated  motion  toward 
the  Gulf. 

Six  days  were  now  employed  by  the  steamboat  on 
which  we  had  embarked  in  reaching  St.  Louis.  For 
many  miles  below  the  rapids,  the  river  scenery  con- 
tinued fine  but  monotonous  :  the  shores  were  often 
hilly  and  always  forested,  but  never  rose  to  any  pro- 
minent outline :  while  every  object  on  the  banks  v^as 
diminished  to  the  eye  by  the  vast  breadth  of  the  stream. 
The  lowness  of  the  water,  the  great  changes  effected 
in  the  channel  by  the  spring  floods,  and  occasionally 
morning  mists,  all  conspired  to  interpose  impediments 
to  a  very  continuous  progress.  Besides,  the  boat  we 
were  in  was  only  a  third-rate.    However,  there  was 


THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST.  93 


SO  much  novelty  in  our  position,  that  we  bore  all  the 
misfortunes  that  fell  to  our  lot  with  equanimity  and 
fortitude,  as  became  gentlemen  '  travelling  for  pleasure 
and  instruction/  We  used  to  sit  for  hours  in  a  little 
group  on  the  high  roof  of  the  cabins,  far  removed 
from  the  heat  of  the  fires  and  the  boilers,  the  chatter 
of  the  passengers,  or  the  jar  of  the  engine  ;  while  the 
lapse  of  each  second  was  marked  by  the  sonorous  rush 
of  the  white  puff  of  steam  from  the  pipe  above  our 
heads.  Each  little  settlement  we  passed  had  its  own 
peculiar  interest,  and  each  tributary  stream  no  less — 
and  there  were  scenes  incident  to  the  river  which  were 
always  pleasing.  The  frequent  landing-places,  over- 
shadowed by  fine  aged  sycamores  ;  the  relics  of  an- 
cient and  whimsical  craft  still  met  with  here  and  there 
— now  a  square,  or  oblong  box,  floating  along  with  the 
current,  with  the  outline  and  the  party-coloured  vest- 
ments hung  upon  the  shaft  of  the  rudder  or  brightly 
reflected  on  the  water  ; — then  the  broad-horn  of  an 
emigrant  family,  lying  in  some  sheltered  cove,  while 
the  heterogeneous  crew  of  all  ages  and  colours  was 
passing  an  hour  of  activity  and  relaxation  on  shore. 

Though  greatly  diminished  in  number  you  still  meet 
with  many  an  ark,  for  the  transport  of  goods,  built  as 
a  broad  flat-boat  with  a  deck  of  two  or  three  feet 
elevation  above  the  level  of  the  water.  They  have 
generally  a  small  w^mdow  fore  and  aft,  and  a  door  in 
the  middle,  a  peep  into  which  will  show  you  a  goodly 
store  of  pots,  pans,  or  flour  barrels.  A  narrow  ledge 
runs  round  them  for  the  convenience  of  poleing.  A 
small  chimney  rises  above;  raccoon  and  deer-skins, 
the  produce  of  the  hours  spent  on  shore,  are  nailed  on 
the  sides  to  dry.  The  larger  are  generally  propelled 
by  four  oars,  and  I  have  occasionally  seen  them  sur- 
mounted by  a  crooked  mast  and  topmast.  Here  you 
will  meet  with  one  fitted  up  as  a  floating  tin-shop, 
gleaning  many  a  bright  dollar  from  the  settlers.  Others 
again  are  of  a  still  more  simple  construction,  and  have 
merely  a  temporary  deck  supported  upon  rails,  through 


94       THE  FIRST  STEAMBOAT  IN  THE  WEST. 


which  the  sheep  and  other  live  stock  may  be  descried. 
Hay  for  their  consumption  will  be  piled  above,  and 
cabbages  stowed  away  in  the  compartment  behind. 

Of  the  large  barge,  upon  which  the  greater  part  of 
the  valuable  goods  in  request  on  the  river  were  for- 
merly transported,  few  are  now  seen  in  the  lower 
waters.  They  required  twenty  hands  to  warp  them 
up  against  the  current  at  the  rate  of  six  or  seven  miles 
a  day,  and  were  frequently  of  one  hundred  tons  burden. 
The  lighter  keel-boat  is  still  in  use. 

Farming  seemed  to  be  mere  pastime, — the  seed 
thrown  upon  the  soil  producing  a  thousand-fold  with 
but  little  attention  and  labour,  while  the  forest  nou- 
rishes the  cattle  and  swine  of  the  backwoodsman  with- 
out the  expenditure  of  a  cent. 

On  the  earlier  part  of  the  voyage,  occasional  halts 
at  the  wood-yards  were  agreeable  to  all,  as  affording 
an  opportunity  for  a  half-hour's  stroll :  but  when  we 
descended  below  the  Wabash,  our  opportunities  of 
going  on  shore  became  a  little  too  frequent.  The  high 
wooded  bluffs  ceased  to  border  the  stream  after  we 
had  advanced  one  hundred  miles  below  Louisville  ;  and 
we  were  now  following  the  river  as  it  flowed  in  an  ex- 
panded bed  through  that  rich  alluvial  region  in  which 
it  mingles  its  waters  with  those  of  the  Mississippi. 
The  villages  were  farther  apart,  though  we  seldom 
paddled  many  miles  without  descrying  the  tops  of 
Indian  corn,  and  the  fences,  roofs,  and  smoking  chim- 
neys of  some  backwood  settlement. 

The  '  Illinois'  was  certainly  not  a  fortunate  boat,  in 
spite  of  the  horse-shoe  nailed  to  the  capstan.  After 
many  scrapings  and  bumps  upon  the  sand-bars  and 
shoals  with  which  at  low  water  the  Ohio  is  becoming 
more  and  more  impeded,  from  the  vast  quantity  of 
alluvion  washed  down  into  it  since  the  partial  clearing 
of  the  forests,  it  was  our  lot,  somewhere  above  the  re- 
markable cavern  called  the  '  Cave  in  Rock,'  to  share  the 
fortune  of  two  other  steamers,  and  get  so  irreparably 
shoaled  about  sunset,  that  after  many  hours  spent  in 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


95 


attempting  to  extricate  ourselves,  by  carrying  out 
anchor  after  anchor,  the  use  of  the  lever,  and  furious 
press  of  steam,  it  w^as  decided,  th^t  whether  the  pros- 
pect were  agreeable  or  not,  the  vessel  must  be  partially 
unloaded,  and  for  this  purpose  lighters  were  procured 
from  the  nearest  settlement.  After  a  glorious  moon- 
light night,  finding  that  many  hours  must  elapse  before 
there  was  any  possibility  of  moving,  we  went  a  shore, 
and  passed  the  morning  in  the  forests  of  Illinois  ;  and 
it  was  not  till  after  a  detention  of  twenty-four  hours 
that  w^e  got  in  motion  again.  Two  more  serious  de- 
tentions, from  a  like  cause,  occurred  at  the  mouths  of 
the  Cumberland  and  Tennessee  rivers,  after  which  we 
finally  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  on  the  night  be- 
tween the  10th  and  11th  of  September,  and  entered 
the  '  Father  of  Waters.' 

Our  progress  was  now  proportionably  slow ;  that 
mighty  river  pouring  dow^nward  toward  the  Gulf,  a 
turbid  and  rapid  torrent,  in  spite  of  its  great  breadth, 
and  the  low  state  of  its  waters. 

By  God's  providence  we  escaped  all  the  perils  of 
the  navigation,  whether  in  the  shape  of  sawyers,  snags, 
planters,  or  sand-banks, — also  a  more  sudden  and  un- 
pleasant peril,  from  having  been  run  foul  of  by  a  de- 
scending steamboat  in  the  night,  without,  however, 
suffering  much  injury,  and  arrived  safe  at  St.  Louis  on 
the  morning  of  the  13th. 

1  have  found  two  reasons  for  hurrying  over  the  de- 
tails of  much  of  our  proceedings  hitherto.  The  diffi- 
culty of  a  choice  among  a  mass  of  recollections  and 
materials,  which,  however  interesting,  might  not  be 
altogether  novel,  may  pass  for  the  first ;  and  as  to  the 
second,  we  have  not  yet  done  with  the  West,  and 
opportunity  and  humour  may  be  found  at  some  future 
time  for  the  introduction  of  such  entertaining  informa- 
tion as  I  have  hitherto  held  back.  I  might  give  you 
twenty  more  reasons,  and  wind  up  by  saying,  that  I 
have  had  neither  time  nor  patience,  which  would 
remind  you  of  the  forty  reasons  given  by  a  notorious 
gentleman  why  he  did  not  make  a  certain  purchase, 


96 


ST.  LOUIS. 


the  last  of  which  was — that  he  had  no  money  ;  or  what 
may  be  considered  more  pertinent,  of  the  many  rea- 
sons, philosophical,  physiological,  zoological,  and  osteo- 
logical,  said  to  have  been  given  by  Mr.  Peale  of  the 
Philadelphia  Museum,  why,  in  opposition  to  the  opin- 
ion of  the  learned,  the  great  tusks  of  the  enormous 
fossil  mastodon  appeared  therein  with  their  points 
turned  down ;  the  last  of  which  was,  that  the  ceiling 
of  the  said  museum  was  not  lofty  enough  for  him  to 
place  them  with  the  points  up. 

I  must  also  procrastinate  with  regard  to  St.  Louis, 
for  upon  our  arrival  there  the  commissioner  found 
that  he  had  been  long  expected  by  several  of  the  gen- 
tlemen more  or  less  connected  with  his  purpose  of 
repairing  to  the  westward  ;  and  with  the  exception  of 
a  morning  which  was  set  apart  for  a  visit  to  Jefferson 
Barracks,  to  see  the  Indian  Chief,  Black  Hawk,  every 
hour  of  our  brief  stay  was  fully  taken  up  with  a  variety 
of  arrangements  and  preparations.  By  the  defeat  of 
the  Indians  at  the  Bad  Axe  river,  and  the  capture  of 
Ma-ka-tai-me-she-kia-kiak,  and  his  sons,  together  with 
the  Prophet  and  other  Chiefs, the  war  carried  on  by  the 
tribes  of  the  Sauks  and  Foxes  with  the  borderers  of  Illi- 
nois had  been  shortly  before  terminated.  The  Chief 
and  his  party  were  then  in  prison,  and  though  kindly 
treated  by  his  victor,  he  was  an  object  of  interest  and 
pity  to  us.  The  fine  old  warrior  was  then  seemingly 
near  his  end,  and  drooped  like  the  bird  whose  name 
he  bore,  when  caged  and  imprisoned.  Little  did  I 
then  think  that  six  months  after  I  should  see  him  alive 
and  in  freedom,  on  his  *  progress'  through  the  Atlantic 
cities  after  being  set  at  liberty, — wondering  at  all,  and 
wondered  at  by  all. 

Too  many  friends  and  advisers  we  found  to  be  pro- 
ductive of  great  embarrassment,  and  after  much,  and 
to  us  most  unnecessary  palaver,  it  was  finally  deter- 
mined that  each  should  travel  as  it  best  suited  his  con- 
venience or  fancy,  to  another  point  of  rendezvous  up 
the  Missouri,  namely,  the  small  frontier  settlement  of 
Independence,  three  hundred  miles  ofT.    This  was  to 


ST.  CHARLES. 


97 


be  our  ultimate  point  of  union  before  turning  south 
into  the  country  occupied  by  the  Osages  and  other 
Indian  tribes.  Colonel  C.  who  had  joined  us  here  as 
our  guide  to  the  main  seat  of  the  commission  at  Fort 
Gibson,  made  choice  of  his  own  mode  and  time  of 
travelling  with  his  domestics.  The  Commissioner 
with  a  medical  gentleman  attached  to  the  party,  decided 
to  wait  for  a  steam-boat  which  was  expected  to  leave 
St.  Louis  for  the  Missouri  in  a  few  days ;  and  as  for 
Mr.  Irving,  de  Pourtales  and  myself,  we  at  once  deter- 
mined to  purchase  horses  and  a  light  wagon  to  trans- 
port our  baggage,  and  travel  as  a  trio,  as  heretofore, 
by  easy  day's  journeys  to  the  place  of  rendezvous. 
Accordingly  we  furnished  ourselves  from  the  American 
Fur  Company's  stores,  wilh  bear-skins  and  blankets — 
after  endless  trouble  procured  horses,  and  pronounced 
ourselves  ready  to  start.  We  had  secured  the  services 
of  a  French  creole,  accustomed  to  the  country  and 
mode  of  travelling,  who  was  to  serve  us  in  the  several 
capacities  of  guide,  groom,  driver,  valet,  cook,  inter- 
preter, hunter,  and  jack-of-all-trades ;  and  as  he  be- 
came consequently  a  prominent  character,  you  shall 
not  have  to  complain  of  his  being  kept  in  the  back- 
ground. 

There  are  always  some  last  words  to  be  spoken,  and 
some  last  things  to  be  done  at  every  departure  of  con- 
sequence. So  it  was  with  us,  and  as  soon  as  one  hole 
was  patched  up  another  was  found  ;  the  horses  had  to 
be  shod  when  they  ought  to  have  been  on  the  road ; 
and  the  wagon,  though  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
times,  w^arranted  in  good  repair  by  the  veracious 
seller,  was  no  sooner  put  in  motion,  than  it  had  to  be 
mended  by  the  purchaser.  At  length,  on  the  evening 
of  the  15th,  we  got  fairly  en  route,  and  travelled  about 
twelve  miles  over  a  horrible  road  to  the  Missouri,  op- 
posite St.  Charles,  where  we  found  a  shelter  for  the 
night  in  a  little  French  inn,  which,  with  its  odd  diminu- 
tive bowling-green,  skittle-ground,  garden-plots,  and 
arbours  to  booze  in,  reminded  us  more  of  the  Old 
World  than  any  thing  we  had  seen  for  many  weeks. 

VOL.  !•  9 


98 


STATE  OF  MISSOUEL 


LETTER  IX. 

The  following  nine  days  were  spent  by  m  In 
steadily  travelling  westward,  toward  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous,  through  a  country  but  sparingly  inhabited  by 
emigrants  from  the  older  states. 

Previous  to  our  departure  from  St.  Louis,  we  had 
only  just  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  face  of  our  future 
guide  and  attendant,  Antoine,  or  Tonish,  as  he  was 
called  by  his  familiar  acquaintance.  After  his  services 
were  secured,  he  pleaded  sundry  indispensable  prepara- 
tions, and  the  natural  desire  to  take  leave  of  his  family, 
for  his  immediate  departure  for  the  small  village  of 
Florissant,  promising  faithfully  to  meet  us  on  the  banks 
of  the  Missouri,  opposite  St.  Charles,  at  daybreak  the 
following  morning.  But  it  was  not  till  after  passing 
hour  after  hour  at  the  little  French  auberge,  to  which 
I  brought  you  at  the  conclusion  of  my  last,  in  vain  ex- 
pectation of  seeing  him  arrive  with  a  horse  which  we 
had  agreed  to  purchase  of  him,  upon  strong  recom- 
mendations from  impartial  people,  who  knew  his  super- 
excellent  qualities,  and  testified  to  his  being  an 
undaunted  buffalo-hunter, — and  finally  losing  all  pa- 
tience, we  had  crossed  the  river  about  noon,  that 
Tonish  made  his  appearance,  fully  equipped,  and  gave 
us  the  first  specimen  of  that  dexterous  effrontery  with 
which  we  became  at  a  later  period  extremely  familiar. 
However,  our  party  was  now  complete,  and  turning 
through  the  outskirts  of  St.  Charles,  we  struck  into 
the  western  road  and  pursued  our  journey  ;  Tonish 
having  charge  of  the  wagon  which  held  our  small 
stock  of  necessaries ;  by  which  arrangement  the  three 
travellers  were  left  at  perfect  liberty  to  saunter,  halt, 
hunt,  or  do  what  they  would.  The  tent,  blankets,  and 
skins,  which  formed  the  main  bulk  of  our  baggage, 
were  of  no  use  to  us  in  this  earlier  stage  of  our  autum- 
nal tour,  as  up  to  the  point  of  rendezvous  at  Indepen- 


STATE  OF  MISSOURI. 


99 


dence,  we  found  that  we  might  always  depend  upon 
reaching  one  or  another  of  the  scattered  farms,  both  at 
the  approach  of  night,  and  our  noon-tide  halt.  Upon 
an  average,  we  advanced  about  thirty  miles  a  day, 
which  was  as  much  as  our  steeds, — which,  to  tell  you 
the  honest  truth,  were  none  of  the  best,— could  well 
achieve,  and  a  few  general  sketches  of  our  journey 
may  suffice. 

Our  route  for  the  first  week  led  us  wide  of  the  river, 
over  an  undulating  country,  the  lower  parts  of  which 
were  thickly  covered  with  forest,  and  the  upper  spread 
out  into  open  prairie.  Over  these  the  decline  of 
the  year  was  beginning  to  shed  those  gorgeous 
and  brilliant  hues,  which  none  can  fancy  or  form 
an  idea  of,  but  those  who  have  beheld  them. 
The  forests  were  fine,  but  not  to  be  compared  with 
the  gigantic  growth  of  those  on  the  Ohio.  I  confess 
chat  at  this  time,  their  frequent  interchange  with  the 
prairie  was  always  welcome,  as,  after  the  novelty  af^ 
forded  by  the  peculiar  character  of  the  scenery  of  the 
latter  had  passed  away,  its  monotonous,  unvarying 
outline  and  bright  colours  were  alike  fatiguing  to  the 
eye  and  the  fancy.  We  had  not  then  conceived  that 
admiration  for  this  great  feature  of  the  West,  which  we 
afterward  did :  indeed,  we  had  not,  during  this  early- 
period  of  our  western  travels,  any  conception  of  the 
great  variety  and  sublimity  of  the  scenes,  which  they 
elsewhere  exhibited. 

We  had  every  reason  to  admire  the  hearty  hospitality 
of  those,  upon  whose  kindness  and  attention  we  were 
dail}^  cast  for  entertainment  and  shelter.  As  the  con- 
stitution of  Missouri  sanctions  the  possession  of  slaves, 
it  was  a  matter  of  course  that  the  settlers  were  for  the 
most  part  adventurers  from  the  central  and  southern 
states  of  the  Union,  and  principally  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee,  and  that  in  their  buildings  and  family 
arrangements,  they  should  imitate  those  of  their  fathers. 
The  farms  were  ordinarily  reclaimed  from  the  forest, 
that  being  the  richest  soil.  The  dwelling-house  usual- 
ly appeared  built  substantially  of  round  or  square  logs, 


100 


STATE  OF  MISSOURI. 


all  the  interstices  being  neatly  filled  with  white  plaster^ 
and  they  presented  two  quadrangular  apartments,  dis- 
tinct from  each  other,  with  a  wide  open  space  in  the 
centre,  all  covered  by  one  common  roof.  In  the  better 
farms,  one  of  the  rooms  was  set  apart  for  guests,  and 
was  clean,  and  furnished  with  three  or  four  beds.  The 
central  division  of  the  dwelling  formed  the  ordinary 
sitting  apartment  of  the  family,  and  from  its  being  open 
at  both  ends,  was  a  pleasant  cool  retreat.  As  is  the 
invariable  custom  of  the  southern  states,  the  kitchen 
premises  were  in  separate  log-huts  in  the  rear,  the 
whole  clearing  being  surrounded  by  a  zigzag  fence  of 
chesnut  rails,  beyond  which  might  be  seen  many  an 
acre  of  tall  Indian  corn,  rising  under  the  girdled  trees 
of  the  forest.  Here  the  settler  apparently  lived  in 
peace  and  plenty ;  cattle,  swine,  poultry,  being  abun- 
dant, and  costing  little  or  no  toil  or  expense  in  raisings 
and  that  was  indeed  a  poor  farm  which  did  not  enable 
the  good  woman,  with  half  an  hour's  notice,  to  spread 
before  her  guests  a  plentiful  meal  of  ham,  fried  chicken^ 
eggs,  milk,  honey,  delicious  butter,  boiled  maize,  and 
hot  wheaten  bread.  For  the  rest,  venison  and  turkeys 
were  plentiful  in  the  w^oods,  besides  innumerable  squir- 
rels, upon  which  we  made  war  as  we  rode  along. 

There  was  one  thing,  however,  connected  with  our 
daily  repasts,  which  gave  us  some  concern.  The 
moment  we  signified  our  wish  to  be  provided  with  a 
meal,  was  an  evil  one  for  the  poultry  ;  for  as  the  ar- 
rival of  travellers,  though  not  an  uncommon,  was  a  very 
uncertain  event,  ever}^  preparation  for  their  entertain- 
ment, even  that  of  catching  and  killing  the  birds,  had 
to  be  performed  after  arrival.  The  consequence  was, 
that  as  soon  as  the  black  Clorinda,  or  blacker  Juno,  in 
the  kitchen,  received  her  orders,  a  strong  detachment  of 
the  little  woolly-headed  urchins  of  every  hue,  who 
swarmed  like  musquitoes  in  this  land  of  corn-bread  and 
pumpkins,  was  upon  the  alert  to  secure  two  or  three  of 
the  long  yellow-legged  cacklers  within  the  fence.  They 
were  generally  aided  by  a  big  dog,  and  not  unfrequently 
backed  by  one  of  those  noisy^  garrulous,  busy  old  ne- 


STATE  OF  MISSOURI. 


101 


groes,  who  are  to  be  met  with  every  where,  as  privileg- 
ed inmates  of  the  family,  in  consequence  of  having 
known  and  cared  for  the  master  or  mistress  when  a 
child,  and  followed  his  or  her  fortunes  from  the  old 
states.  The  scene  of  confusion  and  the  uproar  con- 
sequent upon  this  hunt  were  indescribably  ludicrous  ; 
although  we  had  not  yet  become  savage  enough  to 
gaze,  without  some  qualms  of  pity  and  sympathy,  upon 
these  fugitive  portions  of  our  breakfast  or  supper,  as 
they  scudded  from  one  corner  to  another,  followed  by 
a  flight  of  missiles,  or  the  nimble  fingers  of  the  grin- 
ning children.  The  devoted  birds  after  flying  here  and 
there,  would  often  as  a  last  resort  get  under  the  house 
— the  flooring  being  generally  raised  upon  stones  or 
logs  about  a  foot  from  the  ground — but  no  place  was 
safe,  for  there  the  dogs  would  ferret  them  out,  and  it 
was  really  a  relief  to  hear  that  they  were  relieved  from 
their  misery  and  terror. 

The  expectation  of  this  scene  often  damped  our 
ardour,  while  advancing  cheerily  through  the  forest  to 
the  place  where  we  were  to  break  our  long  fast :  and 
we  used  to  fancy,  that,  from  the  poultry  having  become 
aware  by  long  experience  of  the  fearful  perils  conse- 
quent upon  the  arrival  of  hungry  travellers,  we  could 
sometimes,  when  just  in  sight  of  the  farm,  spy  the  whole 
flock,  cocks,  hens,  and  chickens,  scudding  ofl'  in  a 
crowd  as  quietly  as  might  be,  into  the  tall  maize-field, 
or  among  the  brushwood.  Our  sleeping  quarters  were 
frequently  of  the  roughest  description,  but  we  travelled 
merrily  and  happily  together  day  by  day,  and  were 
conscious  that  we  had  yet  rougher  living  before  us. 

As  we  proceeded,  we  began  to  observe  many  things 
which  were  new  to  us,  such  as  the  large  flights  of  par- 
roquets,  frequent  salt  springs,  and  a  sensible  change  in 
the  productions  of  the  forest-  Among  these  the  papaw 
tree,  with  its  heavy  luscious  fruit,  was  the  greatest 
curiosity. 

The  fourth  day  we  crossed  the  *  Thirty  Mile  Prairie,' 
and  on  the  fifth,  passing  almost  wholly  through  inter- 
minable forests,  reached  the  town  of  Franklin,  near 

9^ 


102 


STATE  OF  MISSOURL 


the  Missouri.  We  here  made  a  diversion  from  the 
usual  road  to  Boone's-Lick,  a  large  and  productive 
salt  spring,  discovered  many  years  ago  by  old  Daniel 
Boone.  Here  he  was  accustomed  to  repair  in  his  old 
age,  when  his  strength  would  no  longer  bear  him 
through  the  fatigues  of  the  chase,  to  lie  in  wait,  and 
shoot  the  deer  as  they  approached  near  the  spring. 
The  Missouri  was  subsequently  crossed  at  Arrow 
•  Rock  Ferry,  and  our  line  of  route  than  lay  wholly  to 
the  south  of  the  river. 

I  recollect  with  delight  our  escape  from  a  hot  and 
crowded  log-cabin,  where  we  had  been  compelled  to  halt 
after  dark  and  pass  a  restless  night,  and  the  following 
morning's  ride  over  the  open  pfairies. 

I  should  despair  of  being  able  to  convey  any  idea  to 
yaur  mind  of  the  glories  of  the  autumnal  Flora,  cov- 
ering these  immense  natural  meadows,  like  a  rich 
carpet.  God  has  here,  with  prodigal  hand,  scattered 
the  seeds  of  thousands  of  beautiful  plants,  each  suited 
to  its  season,  where  there  are  no  hands  to  pluck,  and 
but  few  eyes  to  admire.  After  the  early  grass  ol  the 
spring  begins  to  shoot  up  through  the  blackened  sur- 
face of  the  scorched  soil,  it  becomes  spangled  with  a 
host  of  flowers,  the  prevailing  colours  of  which  are 
white  and  blue.  These,  as  summer  advances,  give 
place  to  a  race  in  which  red  predominates :  and  when 
the  yellow  suns  of  autumn  incline  over  the  west,  their 
mild  rays  are  greeted  by  the  appearance  of  millions  of 
yellow  flowers,  which,  far  statelier  and  of  ranker 
growth  than  their  predecessors,  rise  over  their  ruins, 
and  seem  to  clothe  the  undulating  surface  of  the  prairie 
with  a  cloth  of  gold.  The  great  predominance  and 
variety  of  the  lieliotrojye  and  solidago  species,  give 
this  tint  to  the  landscape,  while  at  the  same  time  there 
are  many  showy  and  beautiful  plants,  products  of  the 
same  season,  of  less  glaring  colours.  Such  are  the 
asters^  from  the  large  and  beautiful  species  which  dis- 
plays its  rich  clusters  of  blue  and  purple  flowers  in  the 
brake,  to  the  small  delicately-leaved  varieties  seen  on 
the  more  open  grounds.    You  observe  whole  districts 


STATE  OF  MISSOURI. 


103 


covered  with  the  tall  and  striking  flowers  of  the  red  or 
white  eiipatorium,  and  every  where  among  tlie  long 
grass,  the  liatris,  or  rattlesnake's-master,  shoots  np, 
and  displays  its  spike  of  red  flowers.  Then  there  are 
the  exquisite  varieties  of  the  gentiana  with  their  deep 
blue,  and  a  thousand  other  flowers  which  I  cannot  un- 
dertake to  describe.  At  this  season,  the  dwarf  sumac, 
in  hollows  and  on  such  parts  of  the  prairie  as  have 
remained  untouched  by  the  autumnal  fires,  becomes  a 
striking  feature  of  the  open  grounds  from  the  blood- 
red  hue  of  its  leaves  and  fructification. 

The  greater  part  of  the  road  to  Lexington,  after 
trav^ersing  the  river,  layover  wide  prairies. 

When  we  were  within  a  few  miles  of  that  town  we 
met  the  long  train  of  trappers,  which  annually  crosses 
the  great  western  desert  toward  New  Mexico,  return- 
ing from  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  Santa  Fe ;  their 
mules  laden  with  the  skins  for  which  they  had  dared 
that  long  and  perilous  pilgrimage.  They  were  about 
seventy  in  number;  men  worn  with  toil  and  travel, 
bearing  in  their  garb  and  on  their  persons  evident 
marks  of  the  adventurous  passage  of  those  immense 
prairies  which  lie  to  the  westward.  Seven  of  their 
number  had  fallen  in  combat  with  the  Indians  on  their 
return.  These  expeditions,  however,  hold  out  the  ex- 
pectation of  such  enormous  profit,  that  adventurers  are 
never  wanting  to  fill  the  ranks. 

Having  heard  nothing  of  the  steam-boat,  we  were 
not  surprised  on  our  arrival  at  Independence  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  24th,  to  find  that  we  were  the  first  at 
the  place  of  rendezvous. 


LETTER  X. 


Three  days  yet  elapsed  before  the  members  of  our 
party  were  all  assembled.    The  Colonel  arrived  the 


104 


INDEPENDENCE. 


evening  of  the  same  day  with  ourselves,  but  the  Com- 
missioner and  Doctor  proved  themselves  the  laggards 
of  the  party,  and  did  not  join  us  till  the  close  of  the 
third.  They  had  met  with  '  moving  accidents  by  flood 
and  field.'  You  may  remember  they  had  resolved  to 
ascend  the  Missouri  in  a  steam-boat,  and  loss  of  both 
time  and  patience  was  the  consequence.  The  waters 
of  this  mighty  river  were  low  ;  they  stranded  again 
and  again,  and  finally  had  been  obliged  to  leave  the 
boat  aground,  about  one  hundred  miles  below  Inde- 
pendence, and  get  forward  through  the  woods  as  they 
might.  Judging  from  the  querulous  tone  which  per- 
vaded their  remarks,  we  concluded  that  the  journey 
had  been  far  from  agreeable. 

However,  such  misfortunes  are  soon  forgotten,  and 
finding  that  we  had  not  been  idle  in  the  interval,  but 
had  got  pretty  well  advanced  with  the  variety  of  new 
arrangements  deemed  necessary,  it  was  resolved  to 
prosecute  our  journey  into  the  Indian  country  without 
delay. 

But  before  we  quit  Independence,  a  few  remarks 
upon  our  pr^iceedings  and  occupations  while  there  may 
be  acceptable. 

The  town  of  Independence  was  full  of  promise,  like 
most  of  the  innumerable  towns  springing  up  in  the 
midst  of  the  forests  in  the  West,  many  of  \Yhich,  though 
dignified  by  high-sounding  epithets,  consist  of  nothing 
but  a  ragged  congeries  of  five  or  six  rough  log  huts, 
two  or  three  clapboard  houses,  two  or  three  so-called 
hotels,  alias  grogshops ;  a  few  stores,  a  bank,  printing 
office,  and  barn-looking  church.  It  lacked  at  the  time 
I  commemorate,  the  three  last  edifices,  but  was  never- 
theless a  thriving  and  aspiring  place,  in  its  way  ;  and 
the  fortune  made  here  already  in  the  course  of  its  brief 
existence,  by  a  bold  Yankee  shopkeeper  who  had  sold 
sixty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  goods  here  in  three 
years,  was  a  matter  of  equal  notoriety,  surprise,  and 
envy.  It  is  situated  about  twenty  miles  east  of  the 
Kansas  river,  and  three  south  of  the  Missouri,  and  was 
consequently  very  near  the  extreme  western  frontier  of 


INDEPENDENCE. 


105 


the  state.  A  little  beyond  this  point,  all  carriage 
roads  ceased,  and  one  deep  black  trail  alone,  which 
might  be  seen  tending  to  the  south-west,  was  that  of 
the  Santa  Fe  trappers  and  traders. 

I  have  felt  a  momentary  temptation  to  give  you  a 
sketch  of  a  deer  hunt,  in  which  we  were  engaged  with 
a  number  of  the  sporting  inhabitants  of  the  settlement, 
but  recollecting  that,  though  very  animated  and  ex- 
citing, it  was  unsuccessful,  and  that  we  have  more 
hunting  in  prospect,  I  will  let  it  pass. 

It  is  advantageous  to  feel  that  you  are  a  philosopher, 
even  though  you  may  be  a  sportsman,  and  that, 
whether  your  position  be  that  of  a  solitary  individual, 
strolling  for  hours  with  his  gun,  or  the  member  of  a 
party,  the  excitement  is  reward  enough.  As  to  myself, 
whether  I  return  laden  or  empty-handed,  1  alwa^^s 
return  gratified. 

On  the  morning  of  one  of  the  days  spent  liere  in 
expectation  of  our  friends'  arrival, — mounted  on  Methu- 
selah, an  old  white  horse  of  the  innkeepw's,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  ragged  water-dog,  called  Cash,  I  left  my 
comrades  and  our  horses  to  their  repose  at  the  town, 
partly  for  a  morning's  pigeon  shooting,  and  partly 
with  the  purpose  of  going  down  to  the  ferry  on  the 
Missouri,  to  inquire  if  any  intelligence  had  come  up 
the  river  with  reference  to  the  expected  steam-boat. 

After  missing  the  path,  and  an  hour's  rough  scram- 
ble in  the  thick  forest,  during  which  I  found  means  to 
insinuate  my  steed,  gun,  and  person,  through  many  a 
tangled  jungle  of  rope-vine,  brush,  and  creeper,  much 
to  my  own  astonishment  and  that  of  the  grave  old 
quadruped  which  I  bestrode,  I  descended  the  bluft^ 
which  here  rises  precipitously  from  the  bank  of  the 
Missouri,  and  reached  the  ferry.  1  met  with  no  intel- 
ligence, but  with  an  acquaintance  from  the  town  above, 
who  proposed  to  me  that  we  should  ride  together  six  or 
seven  miles  down  the  river,  and  call  upon  one  of  his 
friends,  whose  'clearing'  was  situated  at  a  point  where 
the  current  is  unusually  narrow,  and  of  difficult  navi^ 
gation.    To  this  I  readily  accededj  as  it  would  give 


106 


THE  MISSOURI. 


me  a  better  opportunity  of  observing  the  phenomena 
connected  with  this  stupendous  stream,  than  any  I  had 
hitherto  enjoyed.  Though,  geographically  considered, 
1  believe  Mr.  Flint  is  right  in  insisting  upon  the  claim 
of  the  Mississippi  to  be  considered  the  main  river  of 
the  western  region,  in  spite  of  its  inferiority  of  length, 
yet,  considered  as  a  river,  without  reference  to  the 
peculiar  geological  formation  of  the  continent  through 
which  it  flows,  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  pre-eminence  of 
the  Missouri. 

The  *  Father  of  Waters,'  with  his  clear  bright  ex- 
panse and  gentle  current,  is,  in  fact,  swallowed  up  in 
the  turbid  and  boiling  volume  of  the  *  Mother  of 
Floods,'  as  she  comes  rushing  in  at  right  angles, 
upon  the  central  valley,  a  few  miles  above  St.  Louis  ; 
and  though  it  must  be  allowed  that  the  southerly 
course  of  the  Mississippi  is  preserved  even  after  the 
point  of  junction,  and  the  breadth  of  the  latter  is  three 
times  that  of  its  mighty  tributary — yet  the  attributes  of 
the  Lower  ^Mississippi  are  in  fact  those  of  the  Mis- 
souri. 

No  European  can  form  an  adequate  idea  of  either 
of  these  great  rivers,  expanded  like  lakes,  while  their 
waters  are  seen  rushing  forward  through  the  rich  for- 
ested country  like  mountain  torrents,  tearing  down  the 
banks,  changing  their  beds,  and  from  their  turbid 
colour,  and  the  quantity  of  mud  and  slime  with  which 
they  are  heavily  charged,  having  all  the  appearance 
of  rivers  in  a  state  of  extraordinary  flood  : — 3^et  so 
they  have  boiled  on  from  year  to  year,  and  from  age 
to  age. 

The  turbid  character  of  the  waters  of  the  Missouri 
has  been  frequently  attributed  to  the  volumes  of  earth 
and  sand  brought  into  it  by  the  Yellow  Stone,  one  of 
its  largest  tributaries  ;  but  it  is  ascertained  to  have  the 
same  character  to  the  very  gates  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, where  it  comes  rushing  through  deep  and  per- 
pendicularly walled  defiles  toward  the  great  plains ; 
and  the  fact  seems  to  be  established,  that  in  those  dis- 
tant regions  the  unprotected  surface  of  the  earth  is 


THE  MISSOURI. 


107 


undergoing  a  gradual  change,  and  is  gradually  being 
washed  down  by  the  action  of  the  rains  and  ten  thou- 
sand streams. 

There  are  phenomena  connected  with  the  Missouri, 
and  indeed  all  the  great  western  rivers,  which  would 
appear   at   first   consideration    almost  inexplicable. 
Among  these,  none  is  more  remarkable  than  that  pre- 
sented by  the  comparatively  small  volume  of  water 
which  they  appear  to  contain  at  the  points  where  they 
disembogue  themselves,  after  a  course  of  thousands  of 
miles  in  length,  and  the  reception  of  so  many  tributary 
waters.    Take  the  facts  connected  with  the  Missouri* 
At  the  Mandan  villages,  two  thousand  miles  from  its 
sources,  and  sixteen  hundred  from  the  Mississippi,  it  is 
said  to  be  as  deep  and  as  wide  as  at  St.  Charles,  a  few 
miles  above  its  mouth.    Yet  within  these  points  it  re- 
ceives a  number  of  large  tributaries,  among  which  we 
may  name  the  Platte  and  the  Kansas  rivers,  the  former 
of  which  brings  down  from  a  computed  course  of  two 
thousand  miles,  a  volume  of  water  as  large  as  that  of 
the  Missouri  itself.    River  after  river  pours  in  its 
floods  ;  yet  however  great,  they  appear  to  produce  no 
effect  on  the  main  stream.    Various  causes  are  alleged 
in  explanation  of  this,  besides  that  of  great  evaporation. 
The  whole  bed  of  the  Missouri  appears  to  be  a  loose 
shifting  sand,  through  which  vast  quantities  of  water 
are  supposed  to  filter.    Farther,  it  is  urged,  that  the 
wide  alluvial  tracts,  in  connection  with  the  river,  are 
based  on  a  porous  soil  of  sand  and  loam,  which  absorbs 
much  of  its  volume  ;  conveying  large  portions  into  the 
main  valley  of  the  Mississippi  by  subterraneous  chan- 
nels.   In  the  same  way  it  may  be  argued  that  the  small 
quantity  of  water  visibly  entering  the  Gulf  by  the  Mis- 
sissippi, may  be  accounted  for,  by  the  quantity  drawn 
into  that  great  general  reservoir,  by  many  concealed 
drains  of  the  same  character. 

The  upward  navigation  of  the  Missouri  by  ordinary 
boats  may  be  conceived  to  have  been  always  a  most  per- 
ilous and  arduous  task,  and  even  since  the  introduction 
of  steam-boats,  it  is  found  more  uncertain  and  hazardous 


108 


THE  MISSOURI. 


than  that  of  any  other  western  river.  The  vast  length 
of  its  tributaries,  and  the  distance  of  its  sources,  render 
it  liable  to  frequent  floods,  of  which  three  are  always 
confidently  looked  forward  to  at  certain  intervals  in  the 
course  of  every  year.  The  first  rise  that  takes  place  is 
in  the  early  spring,  when  the  lower  tributaries  give 
forth  their  surplus  waters  in  concert  with  the  Upper 
Mississippi  and  her  northern  tributaries.  A  month 
later  the  Platte  and  other  streams  rising  in  the  spurs  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  send  their  tribute  to  the  east- 
ward ;  and  the  greatest  and  most  regular  rise  takes 
place  in  the  course  of  June,  when  the  accumulated 
snows  on  the  Rocky  Mountains  yield  to  the  influence 
of  the  sun,  and  the  floods  come  pouring  down  from  the 
'  head-waters '  of  the  main  river,  over  the  Great  Falls, 
and  joining  those  from  the  Yellow  Stone,  they  swell 
the  torrent,  flowing  through  fifteen  hundred  miles 
of  prairie,  and  advance  day  by  day,  till  they  gain 
the  frontier  of  Missouri,  and  finally  pour  into  the  Mis- 
sissippi. The  rise  of  water  in  the  latter  river,  at  this 
time  at  St.  Louis,  is  generally  between  five  and  fifteen 
feet. 

During  this  latter  period  of  flood,  the  navigation  of 
the  river,  by  steam,  is  safe  and  uninterrupted  ;  and  the 
American  Fur  Company's  steamer,  the  '  Yellow  Stone,' 
takes  advantage  of  it  to  make  its  yearly  trip  to  their 
factory  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  of  that  name,  eighteen 
hundred  miles  from  the  Mississippi.  The  duration  of 
the  voyage  has  ordinarily  been  from  eight  to  ten  weeks 
in  ascending,  and  ten  to  fifteen  days  in  returning.*' 

It  is  impossible  to  note  the  facts  which  I  have  just 
alluded  to,  with  regard  to  the  distinct  periods  at  which 
the  waters  from  the  several  streams  connected  with 
both  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  are  poured  into  the 
great  valley  of  the  west,  without  being  struck  with  the 
great  and  compassionate  providence  of  God,  which  by 

*  In  the  summer  of  1831,  the  '  Yellow  Stone  '  ascended  the  Missouri, 
1400  miles,  but  could  not  reach  its  destination.  In  1832,  they  were 
more  successful,  and  reached  the  factory,  and  in  1833,  succeeded  in 
ascending  yet  300  miles  farther,  being  2100  miles  from  the  mouth. 


THE  CLEARING. 


109 


SO  dispersing  the  rivers  which  drain  tliat  vast  extent  of 
open  country,  over  such  various  degrees  of  latitude, 
secures  the  valley  from  the  yearly  visitation  of  an  over- 
whelming deluge.  If  all  these  mighty  rivers  were  so 
situated,  by  similarity  of  length  and  position,  as  to 
break  up  simultaneously,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
whole  of  the  extended  region,  occupied  by  the  alluvial 
lands,  would  be  uninhabitable.  But  the  deep  snows 
of  the  Alleghany  have  sent  their  tribute  to  the  ocean 
by  the  Ohio,  before  the  icy  chains  which  bind  the 
waters  of  the  Upper  Mississippi  are  loosed ;  and  the 
floods  caused  by  these  and  the  lower  waters  and  tri- 
butaries of  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  have  subsided 
many  days,  before  the  streams  of  the  great  Western 
Chain  can,  from  their  vast  distance,  arrive  with  their 
contribution. 

Resuming  my  narrative  :  Having  rounded  a  noble 
and  expanded  bend  of  the  river,  in  about  an  hour's 
time,  we  heard  by  the  barking  of  dogs,  and  the  chat- 
tering of  many  voices,  that  we  were  approaching  the 
farm  in  question.  The  tall  leafless  boughs  of  a  few 
girdled  trees  then  appeared,  and  as  we  entered  the 
opening  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  we  descried  the 
rough  log  huts  forming  the  usual  habitation  of  a 
squatter  or  backwoodsman.  From  the  prominent 
appearance  of  a  long  table  covered  with  dinner  appa- 
ratus, which  appeared  arranged  in  the  open  air,  a  few 
steps  from  the  door,  a  number  of  dogs  whining  and 
snuffing  around  it,  and  the  unusual  bustle  among  the 
negro  dependants  toiling  about  a  small  fire  in  advance, 
we  suspected  that  something  extraordinary  was  going 
on.  A  young  negro  took  our  horses  with  that  affecta- 
tion of  extreme  politeness  and  good  breeding,  which  is 
so  highly  amusing  in  many  of  his  colour,  and  which 
inclines  me  to  think  that  they  appreciate  the  character 
of  a  '  fine  gentleman,'  more  than  any  other  part  of  the 
community.  The  principal  log  hut  was  built  on  a 
little  level,  halfway  up  the  steep  bank  impending  over 
the  swift  and  turbid  river  below.  In  immediate  prox- 
imity to  it,  I  noticed  the  broad,  solid  stump  of  a  mag- 

VOL.  I.  10 


110 


THE  CLEARING. 


nificent  oak,  which  had  been  just  felled,  and  lay  pros- 
trate, with  his  crown  of  foliage  hanging  over  the  blufi; 
a  piece  of  labour  which  appeared  to  me  so  gratuitously 
unnecessary  and  wanton,  that  I  could  not  avoid  making 
a  remark  expressive  of  my  regret,  as  its  position  was 
not  only  picturesque,  but,  I  should  have  thought,  of 
real  utility  to  the  huts  under  its  shade.  The  reason 
given  was  characteristic,  amounting  to  this,  that  it 
might  one  day  fall  on  the  dwelling. 

We  were  met  by  the  settler  with  the  frank  uncere- 
monious bearing  of  his  race.  He  informed  us  that  his 
wife  had  got  a  number  of  her  neighbours  with  her  for 
a  'quilting  frolic,'  and  made  us  heartily  welcome.  The 
interior  of  the  log  hut  presented  a  similar  scene.  A 
square  table  was  seen  to  occupy  a  great  part  of  its 
floor.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  compact  body  of 
females,  whose  fingers  were  occupied  with  all  diligence 
upon  the  quilt  which  lay  stretched  out  before  them,  and 
which,  though  neither  the  smartest  nor  costliest,  pro- 
mised, judging  from  the  quantity  of  cotton  or  wool 
which  I  saw  stuffed  into  its  inside,  and  the  close 
lozenge-shaped  compartments  into  which  the  latter  was 
confined  by  rapid  and  successful  gobble-stitching,- — to 
be  of  real  utility  and  comfort,  during  the  coming 
winter,  to  the  matron  who  presided.  A  life  in  the 
woods  teaches  many  lessons,  and  this  among  the  rest, 
that  you  must  both  give  assistance  to  your  neighbour, 
and  receive  it  in  return,  without  either  grudging  or 
pouting.  Accordingly,  among  other  usages  current 
among  the  back-settlers,  the  necessity  and  comfort  of 
which  each  has  learned  in  turn,  that  of  lending  a  free 
helping-hand  in  the  spirit  of  kindness,  is  both  a  lauda- 
ble and  a  natural  one  ;  and  hence  arises  the  custom  of 
which  I  have  given  you  a  specimen,  with  others  of  a 
like  character,  A  family  comes  to  sit  down  in  the 
forest, — they  must  have  a  shelter  ;  and  giving  notice 
far  and  near,  their  neighbours  for  many  miles  round 
lay  down  their  employments,  shoulder  their  axes,  and 
come  into  the  '  log-rolling.'  They  spend  the  day  in 
hard  labour,  and  the  evening  in  good-humoured 


THE  CLEARING. 


Ill 


hilarity,  and  then  retire  through  the  forests,  each  to  his 
own  clearing,  leaving  the  new-comers  their  good 
wishes,  and  a  habitation.  They  frequently  render  one 
another  the  same  service  in  rotation  at  harvest ;  and  in 
the  case  under  our  eye,  the  outcry  of  the  good  woman 
for  a  quilt,  had  not  failed  to  call  together  twenty  of  her 
neighbours,  young  and  old ;  and  many  hands  made 
light  work.  Like  the  generality  of  women  brought  up 
in  the  backwoods,  they  were  reserved  and  silent 
before  strangers.  I  should  have  said  stupidly  so,  and 
that  there  was  more  harshness  in  manner  than  belonged 
to  the  sex  under  any  circumstances  ;  but  I  had  before 
my  eyes  a  proof  that  they  were  at  least  good  neigh- 
bours, and  therefore  thought  their  manners  in  this 
respect  of  little  consequence.  The  meal  which  followed 
was  plentiful  and  homely,  and  was  dispatched  first  by 
the  female  and  then  by  the  male  visitors,  with  that 
marvellous  rapidity  which  is  generally  observable  in 
the  West ;  and,  as  I  sat  apart  till  our  turn  should 
come,  I  was  very  much  amused  with  the  bustle  of  the 
scene.  I  watched  the  plates  run  the  gauntlet  from  the 
table  to  the  washing-tub,  among  a  set  of  little  negroes 
of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  who  all  strove  to  act  as  pre- 
liminary scourers,  much  to  the  disappointment  of  the 
dogs  that  whined,  whimpered,  scratched,  and  pushed 
their  sable  competitors,  and  not  less  to  the  annoyance 
of  the  fat  negress  who  acted  as  cook,  and  who,  with 
lustrous  visage  and  goggle-eyes,  flourished  her  dish- 
clout  over  the  tub  in  a  fume  of  impatience. 

The  settler  had,  in  the  course  of  the  preceding 
spring,  bought  three  hundred  acres  of  land  of  the  state, 
at  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  per  acre.  He  came  to  work 
upon  it  in  the  month  of  April,  at  which  time  the  sound 
of  the  axe  had  never  been  heard  in  these  forests. 
During  the  course  of  that  month,  he  girdled  the  trees 
on  ten  acres — built  himself  a  log  hut- — and  brought 
his  family  out  from  Independence.  At  the  close  of 
May,  after  burning  the  brushwood,  and  slightly  break- 
ing the  surface,  he  sowed  the  ten  acres,  upon  which 
the  sun  now  shone  freely,  unobstructed  by  the  dying 


112 


THE  CLEARING. 


spring  foliage,  with  a  bushel  and  a  half  of  gourd- seed 
maize ;  and  at  the  time  of  my  visit  in  September,  he 
showed  me  a  crop  upon  the  ground  ready  to  harvest, 
of  fifty  bushels  to  the  acre — the  whole  return  being, 
consequently,  five  hundred  bushels  for  the  one  and  a 
half  sown.  At  the  same  time  the  fodder,  yielded  by 
stripping  the  tall  stems  of  the  maize  of  their  broad  and 
redundant  leaves,  amounted  to  a  thousand  bundles, 
sufficient  to  afford  winter-food  for  fifteen  head  of  cattle, 
which,  during  the  summer,  had  lived  and  fattened  in  the 
forest,  with  their  compeers,  the  swine,  without  being  a 
charge  upon  the  owner.  Besides  this  produce,  the 
field  had  yielded  fifty  wagon-loads  of  pumpkins,  of 
which  great  use  is  made,  both  for  the  family,  the 
negroes,  and  the  stock.  Such  are  the  amazing  fertility 
of  this  region,  and  the  facility  with  which  the  necessa- 
ries of  life  may  be  procured  !  I  have  given  you  this 
single  instance  out  of  many  of  which  I  took  exact  and 
particular  note. 

When  I  add  that  the  whole  tract  purchased  was  of 
the  same  inexhaustible  richness  of  soil covered  with 
the  most  exuberant  and  noble  forest,  maay  trees  which 
I  measured  being  six  yards  in  girth,  abounding  with 
excellent  water  and  limestone,  situated  at  a  point  where 
there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  transporting  any  quan- 
tity of  produce  to  a  market,  you  may  well  suppose  that 
the  owner  cannot  but  become  wealthy.  There  are  rea- 
sons why  many  who  are  in  equally  favourable  situa- 
tions do  not.  Loss  of  health  is  very  frequently  the 
lot  of  those  who  occupy  these  teeming  lands,  and  I 
have  ordinarily  observed,  that  the  ease  and  little  ex- 
penditure of  labour  and  anxiety  with  which  men  of  this 
class  find  themselves  enabled  to  gain  food,  and  even 
superfluities,  seem  to  unnerve  their  bodies^  and  unstring 
their  minds*  Many  become  listless  and  unenterprising, 
and  lose  that  energy  which  can  alone  secure  riches. 

To  return  to  the  village,  which  I  re-entered  in  the 
course  of  the  evening,  and  our  proceedings  there  : 

At  fhis  time,  (with  all  humility  be  it  said,)  I  held 
the  perplexing  but  honourable  offices  of  commissary- 


INDEPENDENCE. 


113 


general,  and  minister  of  finance  to  our  mess.  I  could 
never  rightly  divine  whether  this  was  owing  to  the  dis- 
covery which  ray  comrades,  Irving  and  Pourtales,  had 
made  of  my  superior  skill  and  activity, — 1  certainly 
slept  less  than  either  of  them — or  whether  their  impo- 
sition of  these  dignities  and  duties  on  me  proceeded 
from  the  simple  and  pure  intention  of  sparing  them- 
selves extraordinary  trouble  of  mind  or  body.  Such, 
however,  was  the  fact :  and  I  was  fully  empowered  to 
take  care  of  our  outward  aflairs — to  buy  and  sell — 
higgle  and  haggle — chaffer  and  cheat,  and  be  cheated, 
for  the  public  good.  In  Independence,  I  had  my 
hands  full.  I  purchased  bacon  and  knives  and  forks, 
salt,  sugar  and  flour,  coffee  and  camomile  flowers,  pep- 
per and  potatoes,  and  a  multitude  of  sundries,  accord- 
ing to  my  own  judgment,  or  their  fancies  and  wants. 
Bat  all  these  matters  were  trifles,  compared  with  the 
strain  upon  the  mind  and  conscience  consequent  upon 
the  purchase  of  horses.  Though  I  confess  to  you  that 
this  part  of  a  gentlemanly  and  classical  education  had 
been  strangely  neglected  in  my  case.  I  had  already 
learned  to  look  wise  in  the  faces  of  those  brought  for 
sale — to  speak  knowingly  and  positively  about  their 
age — and  though,  after  having  had  my  fingers  snapped 
at  in  St.  Louis,  I  had  grown  rather  chary  of  peeping  in 
jockey  style  into  the  mouths  of  unknown  steeds,  yet  1 
contrived  to  keep  up  my  credit  as  horse-dealer  after 
all ;  and  now,  for  your  benefit,  I  will  give  you  a  lesson 
how  to  choose  a  horse  for  the  desert.  We  will  pre- 
sume that  a  dire  necessity  exists  for  the  purchase,  and 
that  time  admits  of  no  longer  delay,  and  that  this  ne- 
cessity is  a  matter  of  notoriety  to  every  rogue  for  ten 
miles  round.  Not  an  old  nag  or  irreclaimable  horse 
can  exist  within  that  distance,  but  he  will  be  straight- 
way brought  in  from  the  forest,  where  he  may  have 
been  scouted  even  by  the  wolves,  brushed  up,  rubbed 
down,  renovated  and  endowed  with  every  marketable 
quality  and  virtue.  Suppose  yourself  standing  before 
Captain  Warner's  Hotel,  in  the  rising  city  of  Indepen- 
dence, and  up  comes  a  Yankee  settler,  Mr.  Elisha 

10* 


114 


INDEPENDENCE. 


Pike,  with  a  horse  to  dispose  of.  You  are  perfectly 
aware  of  two  things — first,  that  the  animal  must  have 
grievous  faults,  else  Mr.  Pike  would  have  sold  him 
long  ago ;  and  secondly,  that  however  great  or  griev- 
ous these  faults  are,  you  have  now  no  choice  but  to 
purchase  the  animal.  Your  only  object  must  be  to 
save  your  credit  as  horsedealer.  You  see  ai  a  glance 
that  whatever  bargain  you  may  contrive  to  make,  it 
cannot  fail  to  be  a  bad  one*  After  the  ordinary  pre- 
liminaries^ I  advise  you  to  place  yourself  for  a  few 
moments  in  speechless  reverie  (the  less  you  speak  the 
better,)  about  three  yards  in  advance  of  the  animal^ 
and  look  him  in  the  face-  Then  move  slowly  round 
him,  muttering  something  about '  heaves' — *  staggers  ' 
— '  spavin ' — and  '  wall-eyed.'  As  you  advance  to 
your  first  position,  you  may  hazard  a  question.  *  Does 
he  trot  or  break  ? '  '  Ere  a  thing  what  you  please y  is 
the  ready  anss\er  of  Mr.  Pike.  '  Mr.  Pike,'  you  pro- 
ceed, *  I  think  his  left  eye  waters.'  '  A  mere  touch  of 
the  whip^^  responds  the  seller. 

The  price  is  asked  and  named.  *  Too  much  by 
half,  Mr.  Pike.'  '  Times  aint  now  as  they  used  to 
was,^  is  the  prompt  rejoinder  of  the  undaunted  horse- 
jobber.  After  a  moment's  hesitation,  if  he  looks  tame^ 
you  may  venture  to  stoop  down  and  peep  at  his  knees 
and  his  fetlocks,  always  trusting  that  he  will  not  incon- 
tinently spring  on  your  back.  You  may  always  safely 
mutter  something  about  *  coming  down  ;'  or  if  you  see 
he  turns  bis  toes  out,  express  your  fear  that  he  is  a 
'  speedy  cutter.'  The  next  thing  is  to  desire  the  seller 
to  bare  his  teeth.  If  he  happens  to  have  none,  I  should 
hardly  know  w^hat  to  advise  you  to  think,  as  there  is 
no  knowing  with  some  of  those  Yankee  steeds  whether 
the  deficit  is  to  be  ascribed  to  extreme  age  or  extreme 
youth  ;  perhaps  you  had  better  not  hazard  an  opinion, 
and  resort  to  the  main  trial,  which  we  generally  had 
recourse  to  in  despair.  This  is  to  take  your  gun  and 
jump  on  his  back.  Then  put  spurs  to  him,  and  dash 
forward  for  half  a  mile  at  a  hand-gallop  over  one  of 
the  rough,  broken,  stump-bestrewn  roads  leading 


CHARACTERS. 


115 


through  the  forest,  discharging  your  piece  in  mid- 
career  ;  and  depend  upon  it,  if  he  neither  comes  down 
with  you  as  he  scrambles  among  the  stumps,  nor 
swerves  at  the  report,  you  may  after  all  venture  to 
strike  the  bargain  ;  hazarding  no  very  decided  declara- 
tion as  to  your  reasons  for  so  doing,  and  maintaining 
such  a  demeanour  as  may  give  Mr.  Pike  the  impres- 
sion that  he  has  only  overreached  your  pocket  and  not 
your  judgment. 

But,  plaisanterie  apart,  as  the  laU  operation  here,  we 
exchanged  or  swopped  for  old  Methuselah,  value  five 
dollars,  the  gallant  steed  sold  to  us  by  our  worthy 
Tonish  for  forty- five  dollars,  but  which  we  discovered 
to  be  so  lame  that  the  very  day  after  the  purchase  no 
one  could  ride  him.  The  only  positively  good  quality 
of  our  new  acquisition  was,  that  he  was  so  deaf  that  the 
discharge  of  a  piece  of  ordnance  would  never  have 
made  him  start,  and  his  negative  plea  to  be  considered 
a  horse  of  price,  was  founded  upon  his  having  be- 
longed to  the  family  of  old  Daniel  Boone,  in  conse- 
quence of  vvhich  Pourtales  took  a  fancy  to  bestride 
him. 

In  the  evening  of  the  27th  I  accompanied  the  Com- 
missioner alone  to  the  Shawanese  Agency  on  the  fron- 
tiers ;  and  the  following  day  we  struck  across  the  wide 
prairies  to  overtake  our  companions,  who  had  mean- 
while left  Independence,  cutting  the  Santa  Fe  traders' 
trail,  and,  finally,  bending  more  to  the  southward,  hit 
upon  that  of  our  own  party,  which  we  followed  till  we 
found  them  encamped  in  the  twilight  in  a  low  skirting 
of  wood,  under  the  edge  of  the  prairie. 


LETTER  XL 


The  following  morning,  by  the  time  the  gray  dawn 
was  brighteniag  into  daylight,  our  lengthened  train 


116 


CHARACTERS. 


might  be  seen  issuing  from  the  hollow  in  which  we  bad 
passed  the  night,  and  proceeding  over  the  rolling  sur- 
face of  the  prairie  beyond.  The  appearance  of  our 
cavalcade  was  far  from  being  unpicturesque,  and  had 
I  Chaucer's  wit  or  Stothard's  pencil,  I  might  contrive 
to  furnish  you  with  a  picture  of  almost  as  much  inter- 
est as  the  '  Pilgrimage  to  Canterbury.'  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  you  will  agree  with  me  in  accounting  the 
time  spent  in  the  Far  West,  both  this  and  the  following 
year,  as  the  most  interesting  portion  of  my  late  travels. 
I  cannot  suspect  you  of  longing,  like  my  other  very 
sensible  correspondent,  to  win  me  back  from  the  sketches 
of  character  and  natural  scenery  to  which  my  own  in- 
clination and  temper  led  me,  to  the  purlieus  of  alms- 
houses, the  prices  of  beef  and  coals,  and  converse  con- 
cerning parish  beadles  and  overseers.  If  you  should, 
the  sooner  you  tell  me  the  better, — in  the  meantime 
take  a  sketch  of  a  day  on  the  Missouri  frontier. 

Our  cavalcade  consisted  of  the  Colonel  and  his  two 
servants,  viz.  a  black  boy  William,  and  a  little  thin 
lack-a-daisical  Frenchman  named  Prevot,  who  gene- 
rally took  charge  of  our  two  wagons  while  on  the 
march  ;  then  the  Commissioner,  the  Doctor,  Washing- 
ton Irving,  Count  Pourtales,  and  your  humble  servant, 
and  lastly  our  scape-grace  Tonish,  together  with  an- 
other half-breed,  whose  services  were  principally  re- 
quired to  care  for  a  number  of  led  horses. 

Slight  traits  may  suffice  to  delineate  the  principal 
personages. 

The  Colonel,  whom  we  considered  for  the  time  be- 
ing the  head  of  the  party,  generally  led  the  van  ;  a  fine, 
good-humoured,  shrewd  man,  of  French  descent,  with 
claims  both  to  fortune  and  family  in  Missouri.  As  our 
conductor,  we  were  all  beholden  to  his  courteous  man- 
ners, and  extensive  information  on  everj^  subject  con- 
nected with  the  country  and  its  red  inhabitants,  for 
much  of  our  comfort  and  entertainment.  In  the  pur- 
suit of  his  profession  of  Indian  trader,  he  had  often 
dared  captivity  and  death.  Among  the  Osages,  whose 
principal  trader,  and  organ  with  government,  he  had 


CHARACTERS. 


117 


long  been,  he  was  supposed,  and  I  believe  justly,  to  pos- 
sess the  greatest  influence.  In  fact  he  had  been  brought 
iip  from  his  early  boyhood,  more  or  less  in  their  camps ; 
had  hunted,  feasted,  fought  with  and  for  them,  and 
was  considered  by  them  as  a  chief  and  a  brother.  From 
him  we  were  glad  to  take  our  first  lessons  in  hunting, 
camping,  and  backwoodsman's  craft,  and  enjoy  our 
first  peep  at  that  kind  of  life,  which,  judging  from  his 
fine  vigorous  person,  and  the  health  shining  on  his 
sun-burnt  features,  was,  with  all  its  hardships,  conge- 
nial to  health  and  good  humour.  He  was  to  be  our 
guide  to  the  Western  Creek  Agency,  about  three  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  southward.  The  Commissioner,  with 
whom  we  had  long  become  intimately  acquainted,  was 
worthy  of  the  respect  which  all  entertained  for  him. 
His  kindliness  of  spirit  won  our  regard  ;  and  we  all  did 
justice  to  the  singleness  of  purpose  with  which  he,  a 
happy  husband  and  parent,  and  truly  a  lover  of  quiet, 
had  left  his  family  and  the  comforts  of  an  Eastern 
home,  to  become  a  peacemaker  among  the  rude  tribes 
and  inhabitants  of  the  West. 

The  Doctor  was,  1  am  happy  to  say,  quite  an  unne- 
cessary appendage,  and  I  believe  he  would  have  felt 
no  disappointment,  had  his  lot  been  cast  otherwise,  as 
this  kind  of  adventurous  life  was  not  consonant  with 
his  tastes.  He  had  not  made  up  his  mind  to  all  those 
petty  troubles  which  are  unavoidable  beyond  the  pale 
of  civilization,  and  you  will  always  find  that  such  men 
are  sure  to  meet  vi^ith  more  mischances  than  their  neigh- 
bours. As  to  our  trio,  I  need  say  nothing  here,  but 
pass  on  to  the  domestics,  a  far  richer  field  for  descrip- 
tion. 

The  black  boy  was  only  distinguished  by  his  good- 
nature, and  by  his  sleeping  like  a  racoon,  while  he  held 
the  reins  and  pretended  to  drive.  The  Colonel's  little 
French  retainer,  Prevot,  was  the  scape-goat  of  the 
party.  He  had  certainly  been  born  under  some  very 
unfortunate  aspect  of  the  heavenly  signs,  and  seemed 
unable  to  shake  off  their  malignant  influence.  Nothing 
could  be  more  diverting  to  others,  than  the  composed 


118 


CHARACTERS. 


melancholy  which  seemed  to  reign  in  his  features  and 
sentences,  as  his  weak  nasal  voice  was  heard  in  the 
brake,  or  at  the  camp-fire,  deploring  his  unhappy  lot. 
Did  a  horse  kick — Prevot's  shin-bones  or  fingers  bore 
testimony  to  the  fact.  Did  it  happen  that  the  passage 
of  a  rivulet  was  difficult  for  the  wagon, — look  but 
back,  and  you  might  be  sure  that  the  legs  and  skirts 
disappearing  in  the  brushwood,  as  the  possessor  tipped 
back  from  the  inclined  seat,  were  the  appurtenances  of 
little  Prevot :  and  so  to  the  very  end  of  the  journey, 
when  we  left  him  on  the  Neosho  with  a  terrible  catarrh. 

These  worthies,  however,  w^ill  all  be  forgotten  ere 
long,  and  probably  you  may  hear  no  more  mention 
made  of  them,  but  Tonish  will  not  so  soon  sink  into 
oblivion.  Light,  active,  in  the  prime  of  life,  no  horse 
could  take  him  by  surprise  ;  no  inclined  plane  could 
throw  him  off  his  balance.  He  was  a  man  of  no  mean 
qualifications.  Full  of  make-shifts,  and  unspeakably 
useful  in  the  woods,  they  were  his  home.  A  house 
was  an  abomination  to  him^  and  he  was  at  a  loss  what 
to  do  with  himself  when  he  got  within  one.  He  pos- 
sessed, however,  a  wife  and  family  at  Florissant,  to 
whom  his  visits  would  seem  to  have  been  *  few  and  far 
between.'  He  w^as  garrulous  to  excess,  in  spite  of  an 
impediment  in  his  speech,  in  the  form  of  a  barrier, 
which  it  was  necessary  to  break  down  by  an  effort, 
after  which  the  words  composing  the  meditated  sen- 
tence came  tumbling  out  headlong.  He  was  a  weaver 
of  interminable  stories,  all  about  himself  and  his  hunt- 
ing exploits.  We  soon  found  out  that  he  was  a  deter- 
mined and  audacious  braggart ;  but  it  was  sometime 
before  we  all  came  to  the  unanimous  conclusion,  that, 
for  lying  effrontery,  none  of  us  had  ever  seen  his 
equal.  In  fact,  such  was  the  ingenious  and  whimsical 
way  in  which  he  would  bring  a  host  of  little  lies  to 
cover  a  big  one,  that  it  became  a  matter  of  amusement 
with  us  to  watch  his  manoeuvres. 

Following  our  march  as  fancy  dictated,  or  stowed 
away  in  the  rear  of  the  wagons,  we  had  a  train  of  eight 
dogs,  all  belonging  to  the  Colonel,  who  was  something 


THE  MISSOURI  FRONTIER. 


119 


of  a  humourist,  and  accordingly  they  all  had  appropri- 
ate names,  dictated  by  love,  hate,  and  political  feeling, 
among  which  note  Henry  Clay,  a  greyhound;  Jack- 
son, a  bulldog  ;  and  Mrs.  TroUope,  a  hound  with  a 
number  of  whelps. 

In  the  south-westerly  course  which  we  now  followed, 
the  farms  or  clearings  were  few  in  number,  and  of  rare 
occurrence ;  the  general  character  of  the  country 
being  that  of  wide  open  prairies,  with  long  lines  of 
timber  trees  skirting  the  course  of  the  creeks  and 
rivers,  many  of  which  rose  in  this  elevated  corner  of 
the  country.  The  road  was  merely  a  track  over  the 
natural  sod  of  the  prairie,  and  though  practicable 
in  the  dry  season  for  such  light  four-wheeled  vehicles 
as  those  in  our  train,  the  swollen  state  of  the  streams 
often  rendered  it  impassable  for  weeks. 

Our  mode  of  proceeding  was  pretty  uniform.  We 
struck  the  tent  early  ;  travelled  about  fifteen  or  twenty 
miles  at  a  sober  pace,  after  which  we  made  halt  for  an 
hour,  allowing  the  horses  to  pick  up  a  little  food,  and 
then  proceeded  ten  or  twelve  miles  more,  till  about  an 
hour  before  sun-down,  when  we  sought  a  convenient 
camping-ground,  affording  wood,  grass,  and  water. 
This  was  the  general  order  of  the  day's  march.  If  a 
suitable  spot  was  found  in  the  neighbourhood  of  one  of 
the  scattered  farms,  it  was  well  ;  if  not,  no  one 
lamented  it,  for  we  were  much  more  comfortable  and 
at  home  in  the  forest,  than  under  the  crowded  roof  of 
the  settler.  We  had  always  egregious  appetites,  plenty 
of  provisions,  absence  from  care,  and  sound  sleep  on 
a  bear-skin  ;  and  what  more  could  we  wish  ? 

Many  of  our  encampments  were  eminently  pictu- 
resque, but  as  I  may  have  subsequently  much  of  this 
kind  of  life  to  describe,  I  will  not  now  allude  to  any  in 
particular. 

Tou  may  suppose  us  drawing  toward  the  close  of  a 
day's  journey,  and  the  sun  sinking  fast  down  the 
western  horizon.  The  broken  line  of  the  cavalcade, 
the  great  intervals  between  the  horsemen,  the  wagons 
toiling  far  in  the  rear,  and  the  difBculty  of  keeping  the 


120 


THE  MISSOUft,!  FRONTIER. 


^pare  horses  on  the  track,  as  they  Seke  upon  every 
opportunity  to  diverge  from  it,  to  feed  upon  the  rank 
grass,  all  betoken  the  propriety  of  making  choice  of 
our  night-quarters. 

The  streams  and  creeks,  meandering  among  these 
vast  prairies,  are  generally  deeply  sunk,  and  bordered 
by  a  belt  of  rich  forest,  of  greater  or  less  breadth, 
and  upon  such  our  choice  always  fell,  as  we  had  here 
wood,  water,  shelter,  and  fodder  for  our  steeds.  If 
possible,  we  halt  before  the  sun  is  down,  that  we  may 
get  every  thing  comfortably  settled  before  night-fall, 
choosing  an  open  space  among  the  trees,  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  the  water. 

The  spot  being  fixed  upon,  we  drive  and  ride  in 
among  the  tall  grass  and  dismount :  each  unsaddles 
his  steed,  hobbles  it,  as  the  term  is,  by  tying  the  two 
fore-feet  close  together,  and  sends  it  hopping  into  the 
forest  like  a  kangaroo,  crashing  and  scrambling 
through  the  gigantic  and  entangled  brushwood,  which 
rises  under  the  heavier  timber.  Here,  at  this  season, 
they  feed  upon  the  pea-vine,  a  very  nutritious  plant 
which  abounds  in  all  the  wooded  alluvial  grounds  or 
'  bottoms '  of  the  Western  Prairies. 

As  soon  as  this  first  duty  is  performed,  we  think  of 
ourselves.  While  the  half-breed  and  the  black  cut 
wood,  Tonish  makes  a  fire  against  some  fallen  tree  or 
log,  and  flits  to  and  fro  in  the  smoke,  like  a  goblin, 
while  preparing  his  poles  and  spits  for  cookery.  Mean- 
while other  hands  are  employed  in  pitching  the  tent, 
and  laying  down  the  bear-skins  and  blankets  within  or 
without  as  suits  convenience. 

By  the  time  this  is  all  fairly  arranged,  and  our  arms 
and  accoutrements  are  carefully  hung  arbund,  night 
has  closed  in  ;  and  the  fire  gleams  bright  and  cheerily 
upon  the  huge  trunk  of  the  oak,  butter-nut  and  beech, 
which  rise  from  the  tall  jungle  of  towering  weeds 
springing  around  us  far  over  our  heads.  Tonish  is 
now  by  far  the  most  important  personage,  and  we,  in 
common  with  Henry  Clay,  Jackson,  Mrs.  Trollope, 


THE  MISSOURI  FRONTIER. 


121 


and  the  rest  of  the  Uck-Hp  fraternity,  await  the  result 
of  his  operations. 

Now  and  then  Clay  advances  his  sharp  nose  too 
near  certain  tempting  spits,  which,  stuck  into  the  earth, 
and  leaning  toward  the  bright  embers,  support  slices 
of  savoury  venison,  the  plump  prairie-hen,  or  squirrel, 
and  gets  a  sudden  knock  upon  it  from  Tonish's  knife 
handle.  Jackson  stands  doggedly  under  the  tail  of 
the  nearest  wagon,  with  goggle  eyes  sparkling  in  the 
fire  light,  in  eager  expectation  of  the  coming  feast ; 
and  Mrs.  Trollope  keeps  up  a  constant  snarl  at  her 
four  whelps,  as,  incited  by  the  maternal  example,  they 
push  their  noses  from  underneath  the  saddles,  and 
from  behind  the  great  log,  toward  the  point  of  general 
attraction. 

At  length  the  Colonel's  sonorous  voice  is  heard, 
*  Messieurs^  le  soupe  est  pare  /'  and  each  rousing  him- 
self to  the  willing  toil,  contrives  a  seat  around  a  tent 
cloth,  and  partakes  of  the  banquet.  And  banquet  it 
was ;  for  we  lived  at  this  time  like  princes,  as  coffee, 
biscuit,  and  bread,  were  plentiful  in  the  camp,  in  addi- 
tion to  our  other  luxuries,  among  which  I  would  re- 
count that  despised  dish,  fried  pumpkins. 

Then  follows  the  second  table,  at  which  the  dogs 
think  themselves  entitled  to  partake,  and  the  half-breed 
and  the  black  are  kept  busy  in  alternately  bestowing 
right-handed  morsels  to  their  own  mandibles,  and  left- 
handed  thumps  to  Henry  Clay  and  company. 

The  table  withdrawn,  we  sit  half  an  hour  round  the 
fire,  listen  to  each  other's  tales,  and,  between  whiles, 
to  the  distant  howl  of  the  prairie  wolf,  the  shriek  of  the 
owl,  the  chirp  of  innumerable  grasshoppers  and  crick- 
ets, the  cry  of  the  bustards  going  to  sleep  in  the  neigh- 
bouring marsh,  or  speculate  upon  some  odd  nondescript 
out-of-the-way  noise  in  the  deep  forest;  till  in  fine, 
growing  gradually  sleepy,  we  steal  off  to  rest. 

I  cannot  say  that  silence  always  held  her  sceptre 
over  us,  even  when  sound  asleep,  for  little  Prevot  and 
the  black  snored  so  loud,  that  the  dogs  would  sit  up  and 
bark  at  the  noise. 

VOL.  I.  il 


122  THE  MISSOURI  FRONTIER. 

Long  before  daybreak  there  was  generally  a  wake- 
ful spirit  among  us;  the  fire  was  stirred  up — the 
breakfast  prepared — the  horses  caught  and  brought 
into  camp,  and  before  sunrise  we  were  on  the  road 
again. 


LETTER  XIL 

The  character  of  the  country,  over  which  our 
whole  journey  from  Independence  to  the  Arkansas 
river  was  effected,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  casual 
settlements  where  cultivation  had  changed  the  natural 
face  of  the  soil,  was  that  which  distinguishes  the  whole 
of  that  immense  territory  between  the  Mississippi  and 
the  Rocky  mountains.  We  skirted  for  several  days 
the  eastern  limits  of  those  boundless  plains  which 
know  no  settled  inhabitants,  and  over  the  other  ex- 
tremity of  which,  at  five  or  six  hundred  miles  distance, 
the  gigantic  summit  of  Mount  Pike  serves  as  a  land- 
mark to  the  scouting  Indian  or  trapper. 

The  scenery  exhibited  by  these  vast  grass-covered 
prairies,  with  but  the  occasional  break  afforded  by  a 
wooded  creek,  is  monotonous  to  a  certain  degree  ;  yet 
as  all  those  over  which  we  passed  belonged  to  the  class 
called  '  rolling  prairies,'  where  a  constant  gentle  ele- 
vation and  depression  of  the  soil  gives  some  variety, 
besides  inducing  a  variety  in  the  character  of  the  vege- 
tation, we  did  not  find  our  journey  wearisome.  You 
may  have  some  idea  of  this  class  of  open  country,  by 
recollecting  the  general  outline  of  our  higher  and 
more  extensive  moorlands — allowing  your  fancy  to 
clothe  them  with  a  deep  rich  soil,  instead  of  dark  peat, 
and  with  a  carpet  of  the  brightest  flowers  and  grass 
from  six  inches  to  six  feet  in  height,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances, instead  of  monotonous  purple  heather. 

The  creeks  were  abundant  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 


THE  MISSOURI  FRONTIER. 


123 


try,  so  that  we  were  rarely  out  of  sight  of  trees  at  a 
greater  or  less  distance  from  our  Hne  of  route,  but  as 
much  as  thirty  miles  were  passed  without  seeing  any. 
Here  and  there  the  country  swelled  up  into  a  higher 
level  than  ordinary,  into  singular  ranges  of  lime-stone 
hills,  surmounted  by  what  are  called  '  flint  knobs,' 
which  rise  not  unfrequently  some  hundred  feet  above 
the  general  level  of  the  country.  Over  such  a  chain, 
called  the  Mounds,  we  passed  on  the  last  day  of  the 
month,  and  were  greatly  struck  with  the  regular  form 
and  mould  of  the  southernmost  excrescence  in  particu- 
lar, which  rose  up  in  the  exact  form  of  a  truncated  cone. 
No  feature  of  the  western  country  has  been  more 
striking  and  embarrassing  to  me  than  its  natural  and 
artificial  mounds,  of  which  there  exists  a  regular  chain, 
from  such  as  this  just  mentioned,  about  which  we  feel 
convinced,  in  spite  of  its  singular  position  and  regular 
form,  that  God  was  its  only  artificer,  to  those  whose 
immense  size  and  shapelessness  are  attended  with  in- 
controvertible proofs  that  they  are  wholly  the  work  of 
human  hands. 

We  made  a  halt  of  half  a  day  in  the  mission  settle- 
ment of  Harmony,  an  establishment  under  the  direction 
of  the  American  Board  of  Missions.  It  is  situated  on 
the  banks  of  the  Great  Osage  river,  about  seventy-six 
miles  from  the  village  of  that  division  of  the  Osage 
tribe  knowif1:/y  the  name  of  the  band  of  White  Hairs. 
In  both  this  and  the  sister  settlement  of  Union  on  the 
Neosho,  which  we  passed  a  week  later,  it  appeared 
that  the  ends  aimed  at  by  the  missionaries  were  chiefly 
the  establishment  and  maintenance  of  a  school  for  the 
Indian  children,  and  the  introduction  of  a  taste  for  agri- 
culture, and  that  their  views  of  usefulness  were  limited 
to  these  objects. 

At  the  time  of  our  halt  the  settlement  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  number  of  strolling  Indians  of  the  Pian- 
kashaw  tribe,  and  these  excited  the  more  interest,  as 
they  were  the  first  of  the  children  of  the  forest  we  had 
seen  in  the  vicinity  of  their  own  settlements,  and  in 
their  own  guise.    Among  the  men  there  were  many 


124  THE  MISSOURI  FRONTIER. 


fine  picturesque  figures ;  but  the  mixture  of  Indian  and 
European  costumes  was  strikingly  grotesque.  The  ap- 
parel of  three  warriors,  whom  curiosity  attracted  to  u» 
during  the  morning,  may  give  you  an  idea  of  Indian  taste 
and  coxcombry.  The  oldest,  Big  Fish,  appeared  clad 
in  the  usual  Indian  leggins  and  moccasins  or  shoes,  of 
tanned  deer-skin,  and  his  smoke-stained  blanket  was 
thrown  negligently  over  a  soiled  cotton  shirt,  furnished 
with  a  superabundance  of  frill,  while  his  head  was  en- 
veloped in  a  shawl-turban  of  gaudy  colours.  The 
second  of  the  group  wore  a  fanciful  green  cotton  shirt 
under  his  blanket,  his  lower  limbs  being  clothed  like 
those  of  his  fellows ;  but  he  depended  on  the  paint 
lavished  upon  his  dark  features  to  win  the  hearts  of 
the  squaws  in  the  train,  having  adorned  himself  with 
bright  blue  and  vermilion  in  two  irregular  square 
patches,  the  one  on  the  left  temple,  and  the  other  on 
the  right  eye.  The  third  was  really  a  handsome 
fellow,  with  a  bunch  of  stained  eagle  feathers  on  his 
crown,  a  dark  blue  shirt,  blanket,  and  red  cloth  leggins. 
Their  squaws  were  hideous  to  behold. 

The  day  after  we  passed  Harmony,  our  route,  which 
had  hitherto  lain  within  the  Missouri  line,  crossed  the 
frontier  by  bearing  more  to  the  west,  and  we  entered 
the  country  then  appertaining  to  the  Osages,  As  we 
advanced,  the  surface  of  the  prairies  became  more 
and  more  stony. 

My  general  custom  during  this  portion  of  our  tour, 
was  every  morning,  as  soon  as  I  had  saddled  my 
horse,  a  duty  which  each  took  upon  himself,  to  shoul- 
der my  gun,  and  leave  the  encampment  on  foot,  both 
for  the  sake  of  varying  the  mode  of  travel,  botanizing, 
and  the  chance  of  meeting  with  game,  before  the  noise 
of  our  advancing  train  should  have  driven  it  at  a  dis- 
tance from  our  path.  At  this  early  hour  the  sweetness 
and  freshness  of  the  air  were  indescribably  delicious ; 
and  though  the  gaudy  Flora  of  the  declining  year  was 
in  a  great  degree  void  of  perfume,  yet  it  seemed  as  if 
every  sense  partook  of  enjoyment.  It  is  just  at  this 
time  when  the  sun's  level  beams  begin  to  warm  the 


THE  MISSOURI  FRONTIER. 


135 


dank  surface  of  these  wide  meadows,  that  the  ah'  is 
filled  with  the  mournfully  sweet  and  glassy  notes  of  the 
yellow-breasted  meadow-lark,  as  she  rises  from  her 
covert  in  the  tall  grass,  and  flies,  as  you  advance,  from 
one  tuft  of  wild  indigo  to  another.  It  is  then  that 
groups  of  that  fine  species  of  grouse,  the  prairie-fowl,* 
are  to  be  seen  sitting  upon  the  trampled  sod  of  the 
track,  sunning  themselves,  while  with  outstretched 
neck  and  expanded  ruff"  the  watchful  cock-bird  gives 
careful  notice  of  the  approach  of  a  human  foot.  It  is 
then  that  the  deer  may  be  met  with,  bounding  to 
covert ;  and  that  the  white  and  black  autumnal  moths 
are  seen  fluttering  among  the  flowers  and  grass  in 
myriads. 

As  the  sun  gets  higher,  the  falcon  may  be  observed 
on  the  alert,  with  his  level  wing  and  piercing  eye, 
slanting  along  the  trail,  peeping  into  every  rut,  and 
prying  into  every  tuft  of  grass  for  the  grouse,  who 
instantly  bury  themselves  in  the  wilderness  of  plants, 
and  thus  escape  his  rapacious  gripe.  At  the  same  time 
the  moths  disappear,  and  in  their  place  numbers  of 
winged  grasshoppers,  yellow,  green,  and  red,  rise  from 
the  side  of  the  road,  take  their  short  flight  of  half  a 
dozen  yards,  play  the  butterfly  for  an  instant,  and  then 
drop  heavily  among  the  flowers. 

I  believe  it  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  of 
October,  that  we  arrived  at  the  limit  of  a  long  swell  in 
the  country  of  greater  elevation  than  ordinary.  An 
old  Osage  warrior  of  the  Gray  Hairs'  band,  whose 
name  was  '  the  Destroyer  of  Cities,'  alias  '  the  Burner 
of  Wigwams,'  then  attached  to  our  party,  and  acting 
as  our  guide,  was  riding  at  the  head  of  our  small 
column.  When  he  arrived  at  the  brink  of  the  ascent, 
he  paused,  reined  in  his  pony,  and  turning  half  round 
as  he  beckoned  us  forward,  spread  his  arms,  signifying 
to  us  the  wide  expanse  that  burst  upon  his  sight ;  and 
that  this  broad  extent  of  country,  dimly  descried  in 
the  deep  red  haze,  was  the  present  domain  of  his  tribe* 


Tetrao  pratensis. 

11* 


126 


THE  OSAGE  COUNTRY. 


And  truly  that  apparently  illimitable  ocean  of  meadow, 
wreathed  in  the  smokes  ascending  from  a  hundred 
burning  tracts,  with  its  numberless  lines  of  forest, 
stretching  like  capes  and  promontories  into  it,  mingling 
with  the  dun  and  misty  horizon,  toward  which  the  sun 
was  sinking  like  a  glowing  ball  of  fire,  formed  a  sub- 
lime scene. 

His  tribe  had  broken  up  from  its  summer  resi- 
dence on  the  Neosho ;  the  warriors  forming  the  great 
hunting  party  had  gone  off  with  their  chief  toward 
the  Buffalo-range  and  the  great  Salt  Plains,  many  days' 
journey  to  the  westward,  for  their  autumnal  hunt ;  and 
the  rest  of  the  band  were  dispersing  to  their  several 
hunting-grounds  within  the  limit  of  their  own  ter- 
ritory. 

The  following  day,  as  we  proceeded  southward,  we 
saw  ourselves  surrounded  by  the  smoke  of  their  fires. 
It  rose  on  every  hand,  over  the  level  horizon  of  prai- 
rie, or  through  the  forest  along  the  creeks.  About 
noon  many  groups  appeared  in  sight,  pursuing  their 
way  in  long  files,  or  in  single  small  bodies  over  the 
country,  with  squaws,  papooses,  and  laden  ponies. 

With  the  exception  of  a  blanket  and  a  few  orna- 
ments, there  was  little  European  clothing  observable 
among  the  males.  The  warrior  was  generally  seen 
marching  first,  with  his  firm  straight  step  and  upright 
bearing,  burdened  with  nothing  but  his  rifle.  Many 
of  them  were  good  specimens  of  the  North  American 
Indian  '  brave/  and  wore  the  head  shaved,  with  the 
exception  of  the  scalp-lock  on  the  crown,  and  painted 
vermilion.  In  general  they  were  tall,  and  in  a  cer- 
tain degree  martial  in  gait  and  bearing :  yet,  though 
straight-limbed,  too  spare  to  be  handsome.  The  coun- 
tenances of  the  squaws,  on  ::he  contrary,  after  true 
savage  fashion,  were  bent  toward  the  earth,  from  the 
burden  of  skins  or  other  articles  imposed  upon  their 
shoulders,  and  secured  in  its  position  by  a  strap  of 
leather  over  the  temples.  The  Indian  ponies  had  also 
their  burden  of  baskets  and  utensils ;  and  the  round 
head  and  glistening  eyes  of  many  a  httle  papoose 


THE  OSAGE  COUNTRY. 


127 


bobbed  up  and  down  among  the  motley  bundles  of 
which  the  load  was  composed  ;— the  boys  and  elder 
children  brought  up  the  rear. 

At  this  time,  our  encampments  were  continually 
surrounded  by  this  tribe.  The  moment  the  Indian 
proclaimed  a  halt  to  his  family,  he  drew  to  one  side — 
grounded  his  rifle — twisted  his  blanket  closer  over  his 
attenuated  person,  and  looked  on  with  listlessness  and 
apathy  at  the  labours  of  the  squaws,  who  meanwhile 
were  busily  employed  in  bending  the  twigs  of  the 
underwood  into  a  skeleton  hut — covering  them  with 
mats  and  skins — making  their  fires,  and  cooking.  In 
every  thing  they  seem  to  be  the  drudges  of  the  males. 
As  to  personal  appearance,  with  very  few  exceptions, 
I  can  only  specify  three  degrees, — horrible,  more 
horrible,  most  horrible ! 

Of  all  the  Indian  tribes  at  which  we  got  a  glance, 
this  and  the  following  year,  the  Osage  came  nearest  to 
our  idea  of  the  North  American  Indian.  The  Southern 
Indian  struck  us  as  being  more  effeminate ;  and  the 
more  northern  tribes,  though  I  own  they  were  in  ap- 
pearance far  finer  specimens  of  manly  beauty,  yet 
wanted  much  of  the  dignity  of  march  and  demeanour 
of  the  poor  Osage.  He  is  truly  the  child  of  the  desert ; 
and  while  the  Creek  and  the  Cherokee,  whom  circum- 
stances have  brought  into  his  neighbourhood,  are  in 
some  degree  showing  an  inclination  to  bend  to  their 
circumstances,  and  cultivate  the  ground,  and  may 
attain  to  a  certain  degree  of  civilization,  the  Osages 
still  scorn  the  alternative  of  labour  to  famine.  Their 
Great  Father  at  Washington  sends  them  milch  cows, 
draught  oxen,  and  farming  utensils,  and  delegates  to 
instruct  them  in  their  management  and  use.  The 
Missionaries  provide  schools,  and  by  labouring  them- 
selves, attempt  to  show  that  labour  and  freedom  are 
compatible  with  each  other.  The  squaw  is  cajoled 
to  send  her  son  to  school ;  but  what  is  the  consequence 
of  all  these  well-meant  attempts  to  civilize  them  ?  The 
crows  are  killed  to  get  the  milk — and  the  oxen  are 
killed  because  the  Indian  cannot  see  the  wisdom  of 


128 


THE  OSAGE. 


Starving  while  so  much  food  is  walking  about.  The 
Indian  attempt  at  ploughing,  which  begins  with  seven 
able-bodied  warriors  assisting  the  coulter  in  its  opera- 
tion, ends  with  the  machine  being  broken  or  thrown 
aside  in  disgust.  The  agent,  who,  seeing  the  impos- 
sibility of  getting  them  to  do  any  thing  when  the  object 
is  not  manifest  and  of  speedy  fulfilment,  encloses  a 
large  tract,  sows  it  with  maize,  keeps  it  in  his  own 
hands  till  ripe,  and  then,  summoning  the  band,  says — 
'My  brethren!  your  village  is  composed  of  twenty 
lodges — here  are  twenty  acres  of  ripe  corn — take  it, 
and  divide  it  justly.'  The  chiefs  grunt  their  approba- 
tion— '  It  is  all  good— very  good  !'  The  satisfied  agent 
goes  to  bed,  and  when  he  gets  up  at  sunrise  the  next 
morning,  sees  three  hundred  hobbled  horses  eating, 
fighting,  and  trampling  the  corn  into  the  earth :  one 
of  the  joint  proprietors  having  had  the  bright  idea 
that  by  hobbling  his  horse  and  putting  him  into  the 
field,  the  share  appertaining  to  him  might  be  gathered 
without  any  manual  labour  or  mental  exertion  on  his 
part ;  a  felicitous  idea,  which  is  soon  hailed  and  fol- 
lowed by  the  rest.  This  is  a  fact !  Again — instead 
of  feeling  under  an  obligation  for  the  instruction  of- 
fered to  their  young,  the  Osage  father  thinks  the  boy 
ought  to  receive  wages  for  going  to  school.  Even 
in  the  case  when  the  Missionaries,  through  circum- 
stances, have  contrived  to  keep  a  young  Indian  half- 
breed  (for  a  full-blood  Indian  can  hardly  ever  be 
detained  beyond  childhood)  for  a  few  years,  and  given  * 
him  some  insight  into  the  most  common  laws  and  uses 
of  agriculture  ;  the  only  consequence  is,  that  when  he 
goes  back  to  his  tribe,  he  is  worth  nothing — he  is 
neither  able  to  subsist  in  the  manner  of  the  Pale-faces, 
nor  to  hunt  with  his  red  brethren,  and  frequently  be- 
comes an  outcast.  Yet,  though  this  seems  to  be  the 
unsuccessful  issue  of  most  attempts  to  civilize  the  Osage 
— I  am  aware  that  there  is  one  trial  making  on  the 
Neosho,  by  a  person  of  great  tact,  prudence,  and 
Christian  principle,  where  he  has  a  fine  fertile  tract 
under  his  own  cultivation,  and  the  control  of  a  small 


THE  OSAGE. 


129 


band  of  Osages,  which  promises  well.  But  few  of  his 
Indians  join  the  great  spring  and  autumnal  hunts,  or 
the  war  parties  of  the  tribe — and  that  is  certainly  a 
proof  of  success  ;  for,  in  general,  you  might  as  soon 
expect  the  young  wolf,  whom  you  bring  up  from  a  cub, 
in  apparent  gentleness  and  attachment  to  your  person, 
to  remain  so,  when,  having  come  to  his  full  strength,  he 
has  once  strayed  beyond  his  chain — seen  the  round 
moon — snuffed  the  night  air — and  heard  the  howl  of 
his  compeers  in  the  mountains,  as  you  can  that  the 
young  Indian  should  lie  by  and  labour  the  earth  with 
the  spade  and  harrow,  when  he  sees  his  brethren  dance 
the  buffalo'dance,  and  turn  their  faces  to  the  broad 
desert — or  hears  the  war-whoop  of  his  tribe.  For  the 
rest,  the  life  of  the  Indian  is  well  known,  and  I  need 
not  dwell  upon  it. 

I  have  noticed  elsewhere  the  determination  enter- 
tained by  the  government  of  the  United  States  to 
remove  all  the  scattered  remnants  of  the  Indian  tribes 
dwelling  on  their  reserved  lands  in  the  different  parts 
of  the  Union  east  of  the  Mississippi,  to  the  country 
west  of  the  same  great  river.  At  the  time  of  which 
these  letters  treat,  this  had  been  in  a  great  measure 
effected,  and  by  the  sale  and  cession  of  their  lands  to  the 
east,  many  tribes  found  themselves  dispersed  upon  the 
frontier,  from  about  the  91st  to  the  95th  degree  of  longi- 
tude, in  the  Missouri  and  Arkansas  Territory,  while 
yearly  additions  have  since  been  made  to  their  number. 
Thus,  portions  of  the  Creeks,  Cherokees,  Choctaws, 
Quappaws,  Delawares,  Senecas,  and  Shawanees,  with 
many  minor  tribes,  were  ranged  along  that  parallel ;  the 
Osages  forming,  as  it  were,  the  advanced  line.  The 
Seminoles  of  Florida,  by  this  time,  have  left  their  homes 
on  the  waters  and  barrens  of  the  Peninsula,  and  have 
gone  to  sit  down  on  the  edge  of  the  great  desert,  by 
the  side  of  their  brethren  the  Creeks.  The  three  first- 
named  tribes  certainly  hold  out  a  promise  of  the  gradual 
attainment  of  civilization — many  not  only  cultivating 
large  tracts,  but  holding  in  their  own  persons  many 
slaves,  and  living  altogether  by  agriculture.  They 


130 


THE  INDIAN  TRIBES. 


may  become  permanent  possessors  of  the  soil  they  now 
cultivate.  The  recent  invention  of  written  characters, 
by  a  fuil-blooded  Cherokee,  consisting  of  eighty-four 
signs,  expressing  all  the  dominant  sounds  of  that  lan- 
guage, and  the  great  number  of  half-breeds  among 
thenij  are  both  favourable  to  this  change  of  life.  The 
best  proof  that  they  are  advancing  from  their  savage 
state  to  a  higher  grade,  is  that  their  numbers  increase  ; 
while  almost  all  other  Indian  tribes  spread  over  the 
American  Continent,  far  and  near,  are  known  to  di- 
minish in  number  so  rapidly,  that  common  observation 
alone  enables  any  one  to  predict  their  utter  extinction 
before  the  lapse  of  many  years. 

There  are  certainly  causes  operating  to  produce  this 
ultimate  disappearance  of  the  red  tribes  of  America, 
which  are  not  fully  understood.  It  is  pretty  well 
ascertained,  that  at  the  time  of  the  discovery  of  this 
continent,  their  numbers  were  diminishing,  and  the 
same  is  observed  at  the  present  day  of  tribes  as  yet  far 
removed  from  either  direct  or  indirect  influence  of  the 
white  man.  However,  we  need  not  seek  for  hidden 
causes  why  those  in  contact  with  European  blood 
should  wither  and  eventually  pass  away,  leaving  no 
vestige  behind  them. 

The  gifts  which  the  Pale-faces  brought  to  the  Chil- 
dren of  the  Forest  have  indeed  been  fatal  ones,  and 
by  them  the  seeds  of  misery  and  death  have  been 
sown  to  a  terrible  extent. 

I  do  not  believe  that  at  the  time  they  first  saw  the 
vessels  of  the  discoverers  and  their  followers  come  over 
the  Great  Ocean,  they  were  either  a  happy  race  or  one 
of  simple  habits.  The  life  of  fierce  extremes  which 
they  were  even  then  found  to  lead  ;  the  close  acquaint- 
ance with  all  the  extremities  of  war,  disease,  and  famine, 
which  even  then  they  endured  ;  the  uncontrolled  sway 
of  violent  passions  ;  the  degradation  of  their  women,  all 
tend  positively  to  contradict  the  supposition  that  this 
might  be  or  was  the  case.  Whatever  may  have  been 
written,  said,  or  sung,  they  were  never  the  rivals  of  the 
Arcadians.    Their  system  of  religious  faith  was,  it  is 


THE  INDIAN  TRIBES.  131 

true,  perhaps  in  itself,  the  purest  that  has  anywhere  been 
found  among  savages,  and  eminently  distinguished 
them  from  their  neighbours  to  the  southward.  Their 
faith  did  not,  perhaps,  like  that  of  many  heathen 
nations,  aggravate  and  stimulate  the  force  of  their 
animal  passions ;  but  it  does  not  seem  to  have  had  the 
power  to  check  and  chasten  them. 

What  the  influence  of  their  contact  and  intercourse 
with  the  European  has  been,  we  all  know.  Where  he 
found  them  poor,  he  left  them  poorer ;  where  one  scene 
of  violence  and  vengeance  has  been  seen,  there  many 
have  been  acted  ;  where  he  found  one  evil  passion, 
he  planted  many ;  where  one  fell  disease  had  thinned 
their  ranks,  he  brought  those  of  his  blood  and  land  to 
reap  a  more  abundant  harvest.  His  very  gifts  were 
poison :  selfish  and  inconsiderate  in  his  kindness,  he 
was  very  bitter  in  his  revenge  and  anger :  he  excited 
the  passions  of  the  savage  for  his  own  purposes,  and 
when  it  raged  against  him,  he  commenced  the  work  of 
extermination.  He  then  read  that  the  day  of  the  abo- 
riginal inhabitant  of  the  soil  had  come,  and  that  the 
white  man  was  destined  to  take  the  place  of  the  red,  and 
perhaps  he  divined  well  and  truly  ;  but  he  had  no  right 
to  presume  upon  it,  or  that  he  was  to  be  the  active 
instrument  in  forwarding  that  mysterious  dispensation 
of  God. 

We  read  the  history  of  the  conquest  of  the  pro- 
vinces in  the  southern  division  of  the  Western  Hemis- 
phere and  the  Islands,  and  execrate  the  bloodthirstiness 
of  the  Spaniard,  who  exterminated  whole  tribes  at  once 
by  the  sword,  under  the  banner  of  the  blessed  Cross ; 
and  yet  the  conduct  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  and  their 
children  towards  the  aborigines  of  the  North  is  hardly 
less  culpable  or  less  execrable.  Like  the  Spaniard,  the 
Puritan  warred  under  the  banner  of  his  faith,  and  con- 
sidered the  war  as  holy.  No  one  who  reads  the  history 
of  these  countries  since  their  first  settlement,  can  draw 
any  other  conclusion,  than  that  the  white  man  secretly, 
with  his  grasping  hand,  selfish  policy,  and  want  of  faith, 
has  been,  in  almost  every  case,  directly  or  indirectly 


132 


THE  INDIAN  TRIBES. 


the  cause  of  the  horrors  which  he  afterward  rose 
openly  to  retahate.  How  often  did  he  return  evil  for 
good  ]  That  the  wrath  of  the  Indian,  when  excited,  was 
terrible,  his  anger  cruel,  and  his  blows  indiscriminate, 
falling  almost  always  on  the  comparatively  innocent ; 
and  that  defence,  and  perhaps  retaliation,  then  became 
necessary,  to  save  the  country  from  repetitions  of  those 
fearful  scenes  of  murder  and  torture  which  make  the 
early  settlements  a  marvel  and  a  romance,  is  also  to  be 
allowed  : — but  the  settlement  of  the  various  portions  of 
America,  with  but  few  exceptions,  is  equally  in  the 
north  and  the  south  a  foul  blot  upon  Christendom. 

But  the  evil  is  now  done,  and  unfortunately  irre- 
parable, in  that  part  of  the  continent  of  America  in 
which  I  am  now  writing  to  you.  The  Indian  tribes 
have  melted  like  snow  from  before  the  steady  march  of 
the  white,  and  diminished  in  number  and  power,  beaten 
back,  they  first  gave  way  and  retired  beyond  the  Moun- 
tains,  and  then  beyond  the  Great  River  and  to  the 
westward  of  the  Great  Lakes.  If  you  ask,  where  is 
that  noble  race  whom  Smith  found  in  Virginia,  the  race 
of  Powhatan,  which  then  overspread  that  fair  country 
between  the  Alleghany  and  the  sea? — where  the  pow- 
erful tribes  of  the  East, — the  posterity  of  Uncas  or 
Philip, — the  white  man's  friend  or  the  white  man's  foe, 
— or  the  tribes  that  clustered  round  the  base  of  the  White 
Mountains? — the  same  answer  suits  all ;  they  are  gone  ! 
— and  scanty  remnants  scattered  here  and  there,  hardly 
preserve  their  name.  We  shall  hear  no  more  of  the 
Indian  patriot  or  the  Indian  statesman.  You  seek  for 
the  scions  of  that  famous  confederacy,  the  Five  Nations, 
the  Romans  of  the  West,  as  they  have  been  termed. 
In  the  depth  of  a  narrow  wooded  vale,  retired  from  the 
flourishing  settlements  of  the  whites,  in  the  western 
parts  of  the  state  of  New-York,  lingering  on  the  spot 
where  the  Great  Council-fire  of  the  confederacy  burnt 
for  centuries,  I  have  seen  the  handful  of  degenerate 
children  who  call  themselves  Onondagas.  A  few  of 
the  Oneidas  still  occupy  a  small  reservation  in  the  same 
neighbourhood.    The  sweet  vale  of  the  Mohawk  has 


THE  INDIAN  TRIBES. 


133 


long  ceased  to  call  that  tribe  master.  Queen  Anne's 
Chapel,  built  for  their  especial  use,  never  sees  an  Indian 
within  its  walls.  A  scattered  remnant  of  their  tribe 
and  of  their  confederates  has  settled  down  in  Upper 
Canada;  and  as  to  their  powerful  antagonists,  the  De- 
laware, with  its  branches,  so  celebrated  for  their  ora- 
tory,— and  the  Shawanees,  the  tribe  of  Tecumseh,  what 
a  feeble  and  scattered  remnant  are  now  distinguished 
by  those  lofty  names  ! 

It  is  my  conviction  that  the  government  of  the  United 
States,  as  well  as  the  population  of  its  settled  districts, 
are  very  sincere  in  their  desire  to  see  justice  done  to 
the  remnant  of  these  tribes,  and,  as  far  as  is  consistent 
with  the  general  welfare  of  the  community,  to  favour 
and  succour  them.  The  main  difficulty  is,  how  and  by 
what  means  these  ends  are  to  be  attained.  The  mea- 
sure now  generally  adopted,  of  buying  their  various 
lands  and  reservations,  where  surrounded  by  the  popu- 
lation of  the  States,  and  principally  those  of  the  east 
of  the  Mississippi,  has  met  with  much  condemnation 
from  Europeans,  especially  from  those  who  know  the 
secret  of  these  purchases.  The  only  valid  apology 
which  can  be  made  for  it,  is  that  of  stern  and  absolute 
necessity.  If  the  existence  of  that  be  proved,  the  policy 
may  be  defended,  however  many  things  may  seem  to 
cast  doubt  on  the  expediency  or  the  justice  of  thus 
expatriating  the  wrecks  of  these  tribes  from  their  small 
heritage  of  the  land  of  their  forefathers  ;  for  though  the 
land  is  virtually  bought,  and  the  tribe  to  a  certain 
degree  well  remunerated,  it  is  still  expatriation.  This 
plea  I  have,  however  unwillingly,  been  led  at  length  to 
admit.  The  white  man  and  the  Indian  cannot  be  near 
neighbours.  They  never  will  and  never  can  amalga- 
mate. Feuds,  murders,  disorders  will  spring  up; 
mutual  aggression  among  the  dissolute  and  ignorant  of 
both  classes  will  give  rise  to  yet  greater  evils.  If  the 
Indian  turns  his  back  upon  the  alternative  of  civiliza- 
tion, he  must  recede  ;  and  were  it  not  even  advan- 
tageous to  the  white,  it  would  be  mercy  in  the  latter  to 

12 


134 


THE  INDIAN  TRIBES. 


attempt  by  all  lawful  means  to  arrange  matters  in  sircfi 
a  way  as  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  collision. 

Yet,  granting  that  this  policy  is  sound  because 
imperious,  no  one  can  look  upon  the  slate  of  the 
Indian,  struggling  for  existence  on  the  frontier,  without 
commiseration.  He  is  perhaps  removed  from  an  im- 
poverished country  as  far  as  the  game  is  concerned,  to 
one  abounding  in  it,  and  of  greater  extent  and  richness 
of  soil  than  that  which  he  relinquishes.  The  annuity 
granted  by  government,  the  provision  made  for  schools 
and  agricultural  instruction,  would  seem  to  place  him 
in  a  more  enviable  situation,  even  though  he  were 
removed  a  thousand  miles  from  the  graves  of  his  fathers. 
Yet  here  he  is,  if  any  thing,  more  exposed  to  oppression  ; 
from  that  portion  of  the  white  population  with  whom 
he  is  in  contact  being  in  general  the  most  abandoned. 
And  it  is  in  this  that  the  Indian  system  pursued  by  the 
government  is  yet  defective.  I  would  ask,  are  the 
majority  of  the  agents  appointed  by  government  to  live 
among  the  Indians, — to  carry  its  benevolent  designs 
into  execution,  just,  honest,  and  good  men — men  of 
character  and  probity — above  profiting  by  the  defence- 
less state  of  the  tribes,  and  superior  to  the  temptations 
held  out  on  everj^  hand  for  self-aggrandizement?  I 
think  I  might  answer  without  fear  of  contradiction  in 
the  negative.  The  ^Indians  are  surrounded  by  bad 
men,  as  the  hungry  wolves  of  the  desert  surround  a 
troop  of  horses.  The  government  of  the  United^States 
shows  by  its  conduct  to  these  agents  that  it  does  not 
put  confidence  in  them;  and  the  hard  measure  which  it 
deals  out  to  them  is  but  a  bad  apology  for  much  of  the 
iniquity  practised  by  them.  The  position  of  both  Indian 
agent  and  Indian  trader  is  one  of  overwhelming  temp- 
tation to  a  man  of  lax  principle. 

As  long  as  matters  are  so,  and  the  Indian  tribes  are 
not  put  under  the  inspection  of  irreproachable  men, 
this  difiiculty  of  essentially  benefiting  them,  must  be 
felt  by  the  well-meaning  and  honest-hearted  people  of 
the  older  States.  Men  of  character  are  sent  out,  it  is 
true,  from  time  to  time,  to  see  for  themselves,  and 


THE  NEOSHO. 


135 


report  upon  this  or  the  other  question  ;  but  they  seldom 
know  any  thing  of  Indian  affairs  from  personal  expe- 
rience ;  and  those  that  do,  and  the  only  men  who  can, 
instruct  them,  are  the  very  Indian  agents  and  traders, 
few  of  whom,  for  very  evident  reasons,  are  to  be  trusted. 
Such  are  the  great  impediments  in  the  way  of  obtaining 
correct  information  of  the  real  state  of  affairs,  as  those 
best  informed  are  for  the  most  part  inclined  to  be  in-  ^ 
fluenced  by  private  views,  and  those  best  intentioned 
least  likely  to  arrive  at  the  truth.  The  system  con- 
demns itself. 

What  check  is  there  upon  an  unprincipled  agent, 
who  knows  that  for  a  bottle  of  whiskey  an  Indian  will 
sign  or  say  anything,  and  at  the  same  time  that  his 
testimony  is  not  valid  in  a  court  of  justice  ? 

As  to  the  Missionaries  on  this  frx^ntier,  my  general 
impression  was,  that  they  were  worthy  men ;  rather 
upright  than  sound  in  their  views  for  the  civilization 
and  moral  improvement  of  the  tribes  among  whom 
they  were  sent  to  labour  ;  and,  like  many  of  their 
brethren  all  over  the  worJd^^far  too  weak  handed  and 
deficient  in  worldly  wisdom,  to  cope  effectually  with  the 
difficulties  thrown  in  their  way  by  the  straggling  but 
powerful  community  of  traders,  agents,  and  adventurers 
of  every  kind,  with  whom  they  must  be  associated  in 
their  intercourse  with  the  Indians.  Their  work  must 
be  a  work  of  faith  and  humble  dependence  on  God,  for 
by  their  own  strength  and  wisdom  they  will  achieve 
nothing.  He  can  effect  what  men  would  pronounce 
impossible.  In  the  lawless,  licentious  conduct  of  most 
of  the  nominal  Christians  connected  with  them,  the 
Indian  finds  sufficient  excuse  for  not  quitting  the  faith 
of  his  fathers,  as  that  proffered  in  exchange  seems  to 
produce  such  evil  fruit.  But  I  must  bring  this  long 
letter  to  a  close. 

On  the  6th  of  October  we  reached  the  Neosho,  or 
Grand  River,  a  tributary  of  the  Arkansas.  We  found 
the  great  village  of  the  band  of  Grey  Hairs  deserted 
and  despoiled  of  all  its  contents,  as  we  had  been  given 
tp  expect ;  we  paid  a  short  visit  to  the  small  settlement 


136 


THE  NEOSHO. 


of  Osage  Indians,  under  the  care  of  Mr*  Riquois,  the 
gentleman  alluded  to  above,  and  then  pushed  on  to  the 
Saline. 

This  was  an  estate  situated  on  the  romantic  bank  of 
the  Neosho,  about  fifty  miles  above  Fort  Gibson.  It 
was  the  property  of  the  Colonel,  whose  welcome  home 
amid  a  crowd  of  Negroes,  Indians  of  divers  tribes  and  of 
both  sexes,  dogs,  pigs,  cats,  turkies,  horses,  ducks,  al! 
looking  fat  and  happy,  was  an  extremely  amusing  sight. 

We  were  his  guests  for  a  day  or  two,  long  enough 
to  see  that  we  were  on  a  fine  estate,  producing  but 
little"^^ surplus  after  feeding  the  biped  and  quadruped 
'  varmint'  living  upon  it ;  and  to  witness  the  coalition 
formed  between  the  squadron  of  new  dogs  and  the  old 
retainers,  who  behaved  with  great  urbanity  and  kindness 
to  the  new  comers.  We  then  proceeded,  by  way  of 
Union,  to  the  Western  Creek  Agency  on  the  river  Ver- 
digris, not  far  distant  from  the  fort. 


LETTER  XIII, 

I  MIGHT  have  mentioned  in  my  last,  that  on  our  arri- 
val at  the  Saline,  the  Commissioner  and  Mr.  Irving 
had  pushed  forward  in  advance  of  us,  to  Fort  Gibson, 
the  former  being  anxious  to  reach  his  future  head-quar- 
ters, to  learn  whether  his  coadjutors  had  found  their 
way  thither  from  the  eastward.  Both  the  Neosho, 
upon  which  the  fort  was  situated,  and  the  Verdigris 
at  the  agency,  upon  whose  banks  Pourtales  and  myself 
had  halted  at  the  close  of  my  last,  discharge  themselves 
into  the  Arkansas  within  a  few  rods  of  one  another, 
the  posts  mentioned  above,  being  four  or  five  miles  from 
the  points  of  junction,  and  in  the  line  about  six  from 
each  other. 

The  original  idea  of  my  comrade  and  myself  had 
been  to  attach  ourselves  to  one  of  the  two  great  bands 


WESTERN  CREEK  AGENCY. 


137 


of  the  Osage  tribe,  the  Grey  Hairs  or  Clermont,  and  to 
accompany  them  on  their  autumnal  hunt.  This  pro- 
ject was  however  eventually  defeated,  and  you  would 
hardly  be  interested  by  my  going  into  the  history  of 
the  disappointment,  which,  in  truth,  was  a  grievous 
one,  especially  to  my  companion.  Both  bands  had 
already  raised  camp,  and  gone  off  to  the  westward, 
and  we  were  glad  to  accept  the  invitation  we  received  \ 
on  our  arrival  at  the  agency,  from  our  companions  at 
the  fort,  to  join  them  in  overtaking,  and  subsequently 
accompanying,  an  armed  expedition  to  the  westward, 
which  had  been  despatched  a  day  or  two  previously  in 
that  direction,  by  the  commander  of  the  cantonment. 
An  Indian  runner  had  been  sent  after  the  body  of  ran- 
gers composing  it,  with  orders  to  the  officers  to  halt  till 
the  commissioner  and  his  party  should  come  up  with 
them. 

The  intimation  of  this  new  plan  was  conveyed  to  us 
on  the  afternoon  of  our  arrival  at  the  agency,  and  as 
the  next  morning  was  appointed  for  departure,  the 
interval  was  one  of  great  hurry  and  bustle  of  prepa- 
ration. 

The  excursion  we  were  upon  the  eve  of  commencing, 
differed  from  that  which  we  had  but  just  concluded  in 
many  ways.  It  was  to  carry  us  beyond  all  human  ha- 
bitations, white  or  Indian,  into  a  tract  of  country  but 
imperfectly  known  even  to  our  guides.  It  was  out  of 
the  line  of  the  usual  Indian  trails,  and  the  luxury  of  a 
baggage-wagon  was  out  of  the  question.  The  party 
in  advance  were  all  men  inured  to  the  semi-savage  life 
of  the  backwoodsman,  and  carried  their  whole  stock  of 
conveniences  and  necessaries  on  their  saddles :  and  as 
to  ourselves,  a  few  spare  saddle-horses,  and  three  or 
four  beasts  of  burden  for  the  transport  of  our  tent,  cook- 
ing apparatus,  and  little  hoard  of  luxuries,  were  all 
that  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  be  added  to  the  train. 

Of  all  our  former  company,  the  indespensable  Tonish 
alone  was  retained  ;  the  others  having  reached  the  point 
of  their  destination.  None  of  the  gallant  steeds  we 
had  brought  from  St.  Louis  and  Independence  were 

12* 


138 


WESTERN  CREEK  AGENCY. 


thought  in  a  condition  to  undertake  this  fresh  campaign 
in  their  state  of  exhaustion,  with  the  exception  of  those 
hitherto  used  for  the  wagons,  and  these  were  now 
pressed  into  the  service  as  sumpter-horses,  and  furnisli- 
ed  with  pack-saddles. 

So  here  was  a  grievous  duty  again  :  and  fresh  calls 
for  the  display  of  jockeyship  and  cunning.  The  worst 
was,  that  all  the  rogues  about  us,  and  they  were  many, 
knew  that  we  were  in  a  cleft-stick.  They  knew,  as  I 
have  described  elsewhere,  that  horses  must  be  had,  and 
as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  showed  their  sympathy  by 
fleecing  us  without  conscience.  However,  bargains 
were  concluded,  letters  written  and  despatched  on 
their  long  journey  to  our  European  friends — provisions 
bought  and  packed — the  indispensable  buck-skin  leg- 
gins,  moccasins,  and  hunting-shirts  procured  —  the 
thousand  and  one  odd  jobs  which  always  imperatively 
claim  a  man's  attention  when  he  has  hardly  time  to 
turn  himself,  disposed  of  somehow  or  other — arms 
cleaned — ^ammunition  looked  to — balls  and  buckshot 
provided  in  sufficient  quantity  for  a  regular  battle — 
horses  shod — and  saddle-bags  stuffed  to  repletion. 
Besides  our  ordinary  saddle-horses,  we  contrived  to 
procure  two  excellent  steeds  for  extraordinary  service ; 
and  as  matters  turned  out,  you  will  see  how  much  we 
stood  in  need  of  them.  In  fine,  imagine  us  ready  just 
in  time  to  join  our  two  friends,  who  arrived  from  the 
fort  at  the  hour  appointed,  and  finally,  about  noon, 
October  10th,  under  the  escort  of  an  invalid  lieuten- 
ant, and  twelve  or  fourteen  invalid  rangers,  setting 
forth  with  our  beasts  of  burden  in  quest  of  the  party 
some  fifty  or  sixty  miles  in  advance.  Imagine  us 
sleeping  in  the  court  yard  of  one  of  the  frontier  farms 
on  the  first  night,  passing  through  the  Creek  nation 
and  by  the  very  last  white  habitation  at  noon  of  the 
second  day,  and  finally,  relinquishing  the  hope  of  fall- 
ing in  with  the  Osages,  bending  our  steps  with  our 
companions  undauntedly  toward  the  unknown  desert 
region  before  us. 

The  setting  sun!   You  may  have  remarked  how 


THE  DEPARTURE. 


139 


steadily  for  nearly  the  whole  of  this  year  we  turned 
our  faces  toward  that  glorious  spectacle  ; — ^how  spring 
found  us  day  after  day  with  our  hopes  and  wishes 
directed  there  at  the  hour  of  eve,  while  we  listened  to 
the  songs  of  the  emigrant  on  the  bosom  of  the  sea ; 
how  evening  after  evening,  we  saw  the  purple  and  gold 
of  the  summer  sky  reflected  upon  the  vast  liquid  sur- 
face of  the  rivers  of  the  New  World  ;  and  now,  when 
autumn  was  spreading  its  gorgeous  hues  over  the  forest 
and  prairie,  we  still  pressed  forward  toward  the  glow- 
ing sky,  and  camped  with  our  faces  to  the  west. 

Practice  makes  perfect,  and  by  degrees  the  disorder 
which  almost  always  accompanies  a  hasty  departure, 
was  succeeded  by  something  like  order  in  our  train 
and  its  details. 

Every  article,  however  ill  adapted  for  packing  and 
transportation  on  the  back  of  a  horse,  seemed  after  a 
while  to  get  accustomed  to  the  position  allotted  it  by  the 
sharp-witted  Tonish  and  his  coadjutors,  of  whom  more 
anon. 

I  recollect  one  exception,  however,  and  that  was  an 
odd  boot,  (a  yet  more  melancholy  spectacle  than  an 
odd  glove,)  which  was  a  complete  eye-sore  as  it 
dangled  hour  after  hour  from  the  crupper  of  one  of  the 
pack-saddles.  We  were  perfectly  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  had  become  of  its  fellow  for  some  time,  till  on 
the  arrival  of  the  commissioner's  new  attache  as  guide, 
hunter,  and  interpreter,  who  had  lagged  in  the  rear, 
we  heard,  that  many  miles  back,  he  had  descried  a 
Creek  Indian  with  a  moccasin  on  one  foot,  and  my  friend 
Pourtales'  fashionable  boot  on  the  other,  very  patiently 
hunting  about  in  the  long  grass  for  the  fellow. 

I  have  named  the  guide,  Beatte,  and  as  he  will,  per- 
haps, figure  on  divers  occasions  on  my  paper,  you 
shall  here  have  his  character.  In  consequence  of  the 
arrangements  made  by  one  or  other  of  the  party,  he 
and  another  half-breed,  named  Antoine,  had  been 
added  to  the  number  of  personal  attendants.  In  the 
character  of  the  latter,  indolence  seemed  to  be  the  pre- 
vailing feature.    It  was  depicted  in  his  h^avy,  sleepy, 


140 


THE  DEPARTURE. 


dark  eye ;  and  the  Indian  blood  evidently  predomi^ 
nated  over  the  French.  He  was  willing  and  active 
enough  when  excited,  but  it  was  no  common  occasion 
that  would  incite  him  to  action.  For  an  hour  together 
he  would  stand  at  the  camp-fire,  with  his  cloak  tightly 
twisted  round  his  body,  his  arms  motionless  within, 
and  gaze  upon  nothing  with  a  fixed  glance,  in  which 
there  was  neither  life  nor  speculation.  In  form,  he 
was  an  object  of  admiration  to  us  all,  and  I  suspect  to 
himself  no  less.  His  body  and  limbs  were  most  sym- 
metrically  moulded.  His  bust  was  that  of  an  Antinous. 
Indeed,  I  may  here  observe,  that  the  finest  living 
models  of  the  human  figure  I  ever  saw,  were  among 
the  Indian  half-breeds. 

Beatte  was  the  son  of  a  French  Creole,  by  a  Quo- 
paw  mother.  He  was  of  medium  height,  and  of  a 
light  compact  form  and  good  features.  His  clothes, 
poor  as  they  might  be  in  quality,  always  appeared 
well  draped  on  his  person,  and  there  was  something  in 
his  whole  character  and  manner,  which  answered  to 
the  picture  my  fancy  paints  of  Robin  Hood.  Way- 
ward and  distant  till  he  became  attached  to  our 
persons,  we  were  all  inclined  to  misjudge  him  at  first ; 
but  before  we  had  been  a  week  together  in  the  wilder- 
ness we  found  his  value.  He  was  by  far  the  best 
hunter  of  the  whole  party  engaged  in  the  expedition. 
The  very  reverse  of  Tonish,  who  used  to  spread  the 
tidings  of  his  own  going  forth  to  the  chase  throughout 
the  camp,  with  huge  predictions  of  extraordinary  suc- 
cess, which  were  very  rarely  fulfilled ;  Beatte,  seeing 
that  the  horses  were  hobbled,  and  his  services  not  in 
immediate  demand,  took  his  rifle,  stole  forth  quietly, 
and  seldom  came  back  empty-handed.  Further,  he 
was  the  only  one  in  the  whole  company  who  had  any 
knowledge  of  the  country,  and  his  information  and 
guidance  might  in  general  be  depended  on  ;  moreover 
there  was  that  feeling  about  him,  that  he  would  be  true 
to  you  in  a  strait,  and  stand  by  you  either  in  a  bear- 
fight  or  an  Indian  skirmish  ;  and  that  was  not  to  be 
undervalued.  That  he  had  met  with  rough  adventures 


THE  DEPARTURE. 


141 


enough  in  the  course  of  his  chequered  existence  was 
proved  by  the  state  of  his  limbs  and  ribs,  most  of 
which  had  been  broken  or  dislocated  again  and  again. 
In  short,  when  the  time  of  parting  came,  we  all  looked 
upon  Beatte  as  a  friend,  and  Tonish  as  a  scaramouch. 

The  objects  proposed  by  the  expedition  were  to 
penetrate  into  the  country  lying  between  the  river 
Arkansas,  eighty  or  one  hundred  miles  above  the 
Neosho,  and  the  Great  Canadian  to  the  southward. 
The  idea  had  been  entertained  of  reserving  that  part 
of  the  country  for  the  ulterior  occupation  of  the  tribes 
on  the  point  of  removal  from  the  southern  states  of  the 
Union,  and  for  this  purpose  it  was  necessary  to  ascer- 
tain its  real  character.  The  course  of  the  intermediate 
streams,  principally  that  of  the  Red  Fork,  and  the 
tributaries  of  the  Great  Canadian  were  but  indifferently 
known,  few  besides  trappers  and  hunters  having  hitherto 
visited  their  banks. 

An  ulterior  project  of  reaching  the  Great  Red  River 
by  pursuing  a  southerly  course  after  gaining  the  bank 
of  the  Canadian  was  included,  but  you  will  find  that 
the  expedition  failed  to  accomplish  this,  from  the  late- 
ness of  the  season  and  other  causes. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  after  quitting  the 
Agency,  as  we  carefully  followed  the  trail  of  the  party 
in  advance,  chiefly  through  the  wooded  belt  of  country 
a  little  north  of  the  Arkansas,  we  came  to  the  bank 
of  that  river, — a  mighty  stream  descending  from  the 
highest  summits  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  through  salt 
and  grassy  plains,  upwards  of  two  thousand  miles,  to 
join  the  '  Father  of  Waters,'  of  which  it  forms  the 
largest  tributary,  with  the  exception  of  the  Missouri. 

We  passed  at  the  same  hour  an  Osage  encampment, 
learning  by  the  way  that  the  Rangers  had  been  seen 
some  miles  ahead.  Yet  we  were  unable  to  come  up 
with  them  before  night-fall ;  and  had,  in  fine,  to  encamp 
in  an  indifferent  spot  for  that  night.  The  following 
morning,  however,  we  joined  them  after  a  ride  of  an 
hour,  and  found  them  snugly  posted  in  a  rich  well- 
timbered  levelj  about  two  miles  from  the  river.  They 


142 


THE  RANGERS. 


had  halted  here  already  two  days,  awaiting  our  an- 
nounced approach,  and  here  the  officer  in  command  of 
our  escort  gave  his  charge  up  to  his  superior  officer, 
Captain  B. 

The  body  of  men  to  which  we  were  now  attached, 
formed  a  company  of  eighty  Rangers  in  the  pay  of  the 
government,  enlisted  for  the  service  of  the  frontier, 
among  the  young  backwoodsmen  of  Missouri  and 
Arkansas,  for  a  given  time ;  each  providing,  however, 
his  own  horse,  rifle,  and  clothing.  Food  and  ammu- 
nition w^ere  furnished  to  them  ;  the  nature  of  the  ser- 
vice being  of  the  roughest,  uniforms  were  dispensed 
with,  and  each  appeared  garbed  as  his  fancy  or  finances 
dictated.  Among  them  there  was  an  amusing  variety 
of  character,  and  I  have  a  suspicion  that,  intermingled 
with  some  very  sober  and  worthy  members  of  society, 
allured  to  enlist  by  a  desire  to  see  the  world,  and  to 
lead  a  holiday  kind  of  life  away  from  their  farms  for  a 
twelvemonth,  there  was  a  very  large  sprinkling  of 
prodigal  sons  and  ne'er-do-weels. 

As  aids  to  the  Captain,  who  was  an  experienced 
backwoodsman,  two  or  three  Lieutenants,  of  like 
qualifications  and  credit,  were  added  ;  and  a  medical 
man, — the  very  reverse  of  our  scientific  querulous 
companion  in  the  former  part  of  our  tour, — being  a 
man  of  a  thousand ;  of  sound  mind  and  body ;  and 
moreover  an  excellent  marksman,  and  fully  accustomed 
to  the  life  of  hap-hazard  and  adventure  we  wore  prose- 
cuting. The  men  carried  rations  for  a  certain  number 
of  days,  after  which  it  was  expected  that  we  should 
come  within  the  Buffalo-range,  and  amply  provide 
ourselves  there  with  the  necessary  food. 

The  camp,  on  our  arrival,  formed  a  strange  wild 
scene.  The  hunters  had  been  successful,  and  nine 
deer  were  added  to  the  stock  of  provisions.  The  bee- 
hunters  also  had  been  on  the  alert,  and  eighteen  bee- 
trees  were  discovered,  cut  down,  and  rifled  of  their 
hoard  of  sweets :  besides,  turkeys  and  smaller  game 
were  plentiful  in  the  vicinity  of  the  camp, — so  that 
abundance  reigned  there. 


THE  BEE  Camp. 


Groups  were  seen  on  every  hand,  among  the  tram- 
pled thicket,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  labyrinth  of  pea- 
vine,  brush,  green-briar,  and  other  creepers,  engaged 
in  some  chosen  occupation  ;  drying  venison,  preparing 
the  skins,  mending  their  accoutrements,  firing  at  a 
mark,  or  casting  balls;  and,  when  night  set  in,  the 
scene  presented  by  the  huge  blazing  watch-fires  in  the 
deep  forest,  was  not  the  less  striking  and  beautiful. 

The  reveille  was  sounded  at  early  dawn,  and  by  sun- 
rise our  long  line  put  itself  in  motion,  proceeding  at  a 
slow,  even  pace,  through  brake  and  bush,  and  over 
rocky  hill  and  prairie.  According  to  the  usage  of  the 
country,  we  travelled  in  Indian  file,  one  following  the 
other,  and  never  abreast,  thus  indicating  our  line  of 
march  by  a  narrow,  deeply  indented  trail  across  the 
country.  Our  course  was  much  to  the  north  of  west, 
and  lay  over  a  line  of  wooded  hills,  rough  on  the  sides 
and  summits  with  fragments  of  sandstone,  and  of  con- 
siderable elevation  above  the  deep  bed  of  the  river  to 
our  left.  We  left  the  Bald  Hill,  a  notable  saddle- 
shaped  eminence,  rising  from  an  elevated  plateau, 
about  half  a  mile  to  the  right ;  and  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  struck  the  Arkansas  again.  Its  hue 
was  here  of  a  deep  red,  and  the  stream,  apparently 
about  half  a  mile  in  breadth,  flowed  with  a  rapid 
whirling  current  among  shoals  and  sand-bars.  On  its 
long  sweep  of  sandy  beach,  we  noticed  the  track  of  in- 
numerable elk,  bears,  turkeys,  and  racoons  ;  and  were 
glad  to  perceive  that  the  flood  of  the  preceding  week 
was  gradually  subsiding.  Our  camp  was  pitched  in  a 
rich  hollow  in  the  forest,  at  a  convenient  distance  from 
the  river.  Here  we  killed  our  first  elk,  besides  other 
game. 

It  would  not  answer  any  purpose  for  me  to  sketch 
each  succeeding  day's  proceedings,  though  I  delight 
to  retrace  every  step  in  fancy.  However,  the  next 
day  was  too  important  in  the  history  of  our  enterprise, 
not  to  claim  a  short  notice.  I  have  already  alluded  to 
the  general  purposes  of  the  expedition.  The  more 
detailed  orders  received  at  the  garrison,  directed  the 


144 


THE  FORD. 


Captain  to  cross  the  Arkansas  at  or  near  its  point  of 
junction  with  the  Red  Fork,  flowing  from  the  south- 
ward, and  then  to  ascend  the  valley  of  the  latter  river 
for  a  given  distance. 

As  nothing  was  known  of  the  ford,  the  attempt  at 
crossing  had  been  looked  forward  to  with  no  small  in- 
terest. 

By  calculating  the  distance  already  traversed,  since 
we  left  the  agency,  up  to  the  commencement  of  this 
day's  march,  it  was  surmised  we  must  now  be  within 
a  few  leagues  of  the  point  of  junction;  but  for  a  few 
hours  we  were  obliged  in  proceeding,  to  keep  wide  of 
the  river,  over  a  range  of  wooded  sandstone  hills,  in 
order  to  overcome  the  obstacle  to  a  more  direct  course, 
which  presented  itself,  in  a  very  high  rocky  promon- 
tory. From  the  heights  above  it,  however,  we  caught 
a  view  of  the  whole  country  for  many  miles  round, 
including  a  glimpse  of  the  river  of  which  we  were  in 
search. 

The  Red  Fork  appeared  worthy  of  its  name,  pour- 
ing down  into  the  main  river  at  our  feet,  a  turbid 
bright  red  stream,  broken  by  wide  level  sand-bars  and 
mud-banks.  We  soon  struck  into  an  old  Indian  trail, 
and  descending  into  the  entangled  jungle  to  the  north 
of  the  promontory,  gained  the  densely  wooded  bank 
of  the  Arkansas  again.  Here  several  halts  were  made 
for  consultation,  and  after  many  trials  as  to  the  prac- 
ticability of  effecting  our  passage,  it  was  found  that 
the  river  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  its  tributary,  was 
extremely  turbid  and  deep,  and  it  was  therefore  con- 
sidered advisable  to  ascend  higher  in  search  of  a  ford. 

While  we  were  breaking  our  way  through  the  en- 
tangled brushwood,  it  happened  that  our  approach 
roused  a  poor  skunk  from  his  noontide  slumber  under 
a  fallen  tree.  His  destruction  was  speedily  effected 
by  Tonish  and  Beatte,  not  however  before  it  had 
avenged  itself  by  filling  the  air  with  such  a  subtle  and 
fetid  odour  as  was  almost  beyond  human  endurance. 
Considerable  wrath  was  excited  among  the  more  deli- 
cately-nosed portion  of  the  party  by  this  procedure, 


THE  FORD. 


145 


though  the  feeling  was  mingled  with  surprise  on  observ- 
ing that  after  having  been  divested  of  its  skin,  the  ani- 
mal was  appended  to  the  saddle  of  Beatte  as  a  welcome 
addition  to  his  next  supper.  He  was  in  a  wayward 
humour,  and  while  Tonish, — who  usually  arrogated  to 
himself  the  credit  of  every  valuable  capture, — was  ex- 
citing the  appetite  of  my  curious  comrade  with  a 
descent  upon  its  peculiar  delicacy,  he  pushed  forward 
to  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  line,  without  offering 
either  explanation  or  apology.  Some  how  or  other, 
the  skunk  never  made  its  appearance  at  table  ;  and 
upon  inquiry  it  was  ascertained,  that  in  the  midst  of 
the  bustle  consequent  upon  the  passage  of  the  river,  it 
had  disappeared  in  a  most  unaccountable  manner,  and 
though  hunted  for  by  Beatte  with  the  same  eagerness 
as  a  cat  will  hunt  for  a  mouse  which  may  have  escaped 
after  having  been  long  in  her  possession,  was  not  to 
be  found.  We  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  our  friend 
Irving,  whose  spite  against  the  dead  animal  had  been 
concentrated  and  uncompromising,  knew  more  about 
the  disappearance  than  he  chose  to  publish.  We  never 
fairly  brought  him  to  his  confession  ;  but  from  a  sly 
twinkle  of  the  eye,  and  restlessness  about  the  muscles 
of  the  lips,  whenever  the  subject  was  mentioned,  I  have 
no  doubt  but  he  was  the  delinquent,  and  that  some  day 
the  truth  will  out.  I  may  still  mention  that,  as  we  all 
got  considerably  less  refined,  and  more  savage  in  our 
tastes,  in  a  week  or  ten  days'  time  this  Indian  delicacy 
was  several  times  served  up  at  our  mess  without  rais- 
ing any  great  disturbance. 

After  a  farther  advance  of  two  or  three  miles  with 
no  inconsiderable  toil,  appearances  being  more  favour- 
able, another  halt  was  proclaimed.  The  river  was  here 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  Beatte  made  the  essay, 
and  it  was  seen  that  the  passage  might  be  effected  with 
a  swim  of  perhaps  a  dozen  yards  in  the  middle.  As 
it  was  doubtful  whether  we  should  better  ourselves 
by  farther  advance,  the  captain  finally  resolved  to 
attempt  the  passage  at  this  spot.  The  men  were 
ordered  to  prepare  rafts  for  their  arms  and  baggage, 

VOL.  I.  13 


146 


THE  FORD. 


and  to  swim  their  horses  as  they  might.  All  the  axes 
were  put  in  immediate  requisition.  While  the  forest 
was  echoing  to  the  first  strokes  of  the  axe  ever  heard 
in  this  solitude,  and  all  hands  were  busied  with  hurried 
preparations  for  what  threatened  to  be  in  the  opinion 
of  the  rangers  a  doubtful  and  laborious  piece  of  ser- 
vice, Beatte,  Tonish,  and  Antoine  were  occupied  with 
their  own  peculiar  schemes  and  projects  for  the  speedy 
passage  of  our  effects.  I  might  still  smile  at  recollect- 
ing my  own  surprise,  and  that  of  divers  of  the  rangers 
in  my  vicinity,  when,  ten  minutes  after  the  resolution  to 
cross  was  announced,  I  scrambled  through  the  brush 
to  the  brink  of  the  river,  with  my  saddle  and  other  ac- 
coutrements which  I  had  been  preparing  for  transpor- 
tation, and  descried  a  pile  of  our  effects  already  on  the 
level  sands  of  the  opposite  shore,  while  our  three  half 
savages  were  to  be  seen  swimming,  whooping,  and 
yelling  in  mid-current  round  a  buffalo  skin  which  they 
had  quickly  transformed  into  a  canoe,  by  simply  tying 
up  the  ends,  and  putting  light  sticks  athwart  the  open- 
ing, to  make  it  keep  its  shape.  Into  this  clever  make- 
shift they  continued  to  tumble  every  thing  in  turn~ 
saddles,  pack-saddles,  provisions,  clothing,  tent,  and 
guns,  and,  in  fine,  in  six  or  seven  crossings,  brought  all 
dry  to  the  opposite  shore,  crowning  their  labours 
during  the  last  two  trips  by  seating  the  commissioner 
and  Mr.  Irving  in  turn  on  the  top  of  the  load,  and 
landing  them  safe  and  sound  on  the  right  bank. 

Meanwhile,  with  the  exception  of  the  captain  and-  -^^^^ 
the  doctor,  who  were  close  at  hand  working  dog- 
gedly upon  their  raft,  we  were  left  alone,  for  the  news 
having  been  brought  of  the  discovery  of  a  yet  better 
ford,  half  a  mile  higher  up,  all  the  rangers  had  repaired 
thither ;  thus  Pourtales  and  myself,  after  seeing  that 
we  could  be  of  no  assistance,  and  having  confided 
every  superfluous  article  about  us  to  the  care  of  the 
canoe  party,  jumped  on  the  bare  backs  of  our  horses, 
and  followed  their  trail,  eventually  crossing,  half 
wading  and  half  swimming,  as  others  had  done  before 
us. 


THE  BEAR'S  GLEN. 


147 


The  whole  scene  was  highly  picturesque,  as  you 
looked  upon  the  river,  gliding  at  the  base  of  a  range  of 
high  rocky  hills,  with  the  thick  forests  arrayed  in  the 
glorious  hues  of  autumn,  and  saw  the  bright  flame- 
coloured  sands  sprinkled  by  groups  of  horsemen  and 
piles  of  baggage. 

The  day  was  altogether  one  of  considerable  excite- 
ment, and  when,  toward  the  close,  we  found  ourselves 
snugly  encamped  among  the  trees  in  a  most  romantic 
dell,  surrounded  by  precipitous  rocks,  which,  from  the 
abundant  signs  afforded  of  our  having  dislodged  a 
number  of  those  animals,  we  called  the  Bear's  Glen, 
we  felt  both  happy  and  thankful  that  this  first  difficulty 
had  been  fortunately  overcome  without  serious  deten- 
tion or  accident. 

I  remember  strolling  with  my  gun  over  the  head  of 
the  hill  to  the  left,  as  the  sun  went  down,  throwing  his 
golden  light  over  the  valley  of  the  Arkansas,  and  think- 
ing our  position  one  of  uncommon  beauty  and  romance. 
We  seemed  to  be  once  more  in  a  hilly  region.  To 
the  north-west  a  deep  dun  smoke  on  the  horizon  beto- 
kened the  burning  prairies  and  the  presence  of  the 
Indian  in  that  quarter,  while  directly  below  me,  in  the 
twilight  of  the  deep  shaded  glen,  the  camp-fires  were 
gleaming  red  beneath  their  wreaths  of  smoke,  and  the 
voices  of  the  rangers,  and  the  bells  of  the  horses,  rose 
to  the  ear. 

On  calling  the  muster-roll  after  dark,  all  the  human 
beings  belonging  to  the  party  were  present ;  but  Mr. 
Irving's  horse,  one  or  two  of  our  pack-horses,  and  a 
few  others  belonging  to  the  rangers  were  missing ;  and 
as  several  of  them  were  reported  to  have  been  descried 
in  the  dusk,  floundering  in  the  mud  of  a  deep  creek  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river,  we  were  not  without  our 
fears  for  their  safety.  Whatever  the  morrow  might 
betide,  we  knew  that  this  day's  labours  were  at  an  end, 
and  soon  terminated  it  by  lying  down  on  our  bear-skins 
before  the  fire. 

Beatte  was  up  at  early  dawn,  and  over  the  river 
with  Antoine,   The  former  returned  soon  after  sun- 


148 


COOKING  CAMP. 


rise  with  all  the  horses  that  were  missing  belonging  to 
our  mess.  The  latter,  who  had  gone  off  in  search  of 
them  in  another  direction,  did  not  overtake  us  till  the 
following  morning.  On  returning  to  the  Bear's  Glen, 
with  some  of  the  rangers,  from  his  fruitless  quest  after 
the  horses,  a  few  hours  after  we  had  evacuated  it,  it 
was  found  that  the  rightful  possessors  had  begun  to 
resume  their  old  quarters,  grumbling  no  doubt  most 
heartily  at  the  inconvenience  they  had  been  put  to,  to 
make  way  for  such  saucy  and  thankless  intruders. 
Poor  fellows !  they  were  badly  remunerated  for  the 
use  of  their  lodgings,  for  two  were  straightway  killed, 
and  the  laggards  came  up  loaded  with  their  venison. 

They  found  us  encamped  in  a  little  secluded  penin- 
sula, formed  by  a  creek  ^n  the  vicinity  of  the  Red 
Pork.  The  stream  as  it  strayed  from  one  deep  clear 
pool,  over  broken  rock  and  tangled  grass,  to  another 
within  high  banks,  formed  a  kind  of  natural  entrench- 
ment for  us. 

From  this  point,  a  few  of  the  party  who  were  inva- 
lids, were  allowed  to  retrace  their  steps  to  the  Fort, 
from  which  we  might  now  be  about  one  hundred  miles 
distant.  From  the  banks  of  the  Arkansas  we  had  tra- 
versed a  number  of  elevated  ridges,  partly  open  prairie, 
and  partly  covered  with  forest,  from  the  crest  of  which 
we  often  surveyed  a  most  extensive  horizon. 

Four  deer  and  an  elk  having  been  killed  the  even- 
ing of  our  arrival,  and  large  troops  of  the  latter  seen, 
it  was  proposed  to  rest  a  day  here  and  hunt.  So,  what 
between  our  proportion  of  the  bears'  meat,  and  other 
venison,  and  abundance  of  turkeys  and  fresh  provi- 
sion brought  in  the  following  day, — messes  No.  1  and 
No.  2  were  plenteously  supplied  during  the  day  of 
rest,  (Oct.  17th)  and  the  whole  camp  appeared  like  a 
kitchen.  Man  has  been  defined  as  a  '  cooking  animal,' 
and  in  that  particular  clearly  distinct  from  any  other  on 
the  face  of  the  globe.  There  could  be  no  doubt  of 
our  belonging  to  the  race  ;  for  continual  trussing  and 
spitting,  drying  and  smoking,  carving  and  cooking, 
was  the  order  of  the  day  of  repose.    We  found  that 


THE  RANGERS. 


149 


we  all  belonged  to  the  hunter  tribe,  and  that  there  was 
to  be  no  medium  between  a  feast  and  a  fast. 

My  next  shall  give  you  some  further  sketch  of  the 
organization  of  our  party,  and  details  connected  there- 
with. 


LETTER  XIV. 

You  will  have  supposed,  without  my  having  per- 
haps expressly  mentioned  it,  that,  when  in  camp,  our 
trio,  with  the  commissioner  and  our  several  attendants, 
formed  a  separate  mess,  having  but  little  connection 
with  the  others,  but  such  as  friendly  courtesy  and  our 
association  as  fellow-adventurers  dictated. 

From  the  moment  the  signal  for  encampment  was 
given,  to  the  bugle-call  that  gave  notice  of  our  morn^ 
ing  departure,  we  were  in  fact  as  much  chez  nous,  as 
though  we  had  inhabited  separate  houses.  We  were 
dependant  upon  our  own  arrangements  for  comfort, 
and  upon  our  success,  or  rather  1  should  say  upon  that 
of  our  retainers,  for  our  supplies  of  provisions,  beyond 
those  few  necessaries,  or  luxuries  if  you  will,  that  we 
contrived  to  carry  with  us.  The  captain  and  his  offi- 
cers formed  also  a  mess  apart,  and  ordinarily  pitched 
their  camp-fire  a  dozen  yards  or  so  from  our  own. 
The  men  were  divided,  according  to  friendship  or 
fancy,  into  ten  or  a  dozen  parties,  each  having  its  own 
rations,  and  an  equal  share  of  the  venison  which  thq 
hunters,  appointed  in  rotation,  brought  into  camp. 

You  will  also,  perhaps,  have  understood,  with  re- 
gard to  the  Rangers,  that,  though  in  the  pay  of  gov- 
ernment, neither  the  officers,  nor  the  men,  were  con- 
sidered to  belong  to  any  class  of  regular  troops  ;  and 
that  neither  one  nor  the  other  had  any  great  idea  of 
military  discipline. 

To  keep  the  file,  when  on  march  ;  never  to  leave 
the  camp  without  express  permission,  and  to  obey  the 

13*  ^ 


150 


THE  RANGERS. 


general  orders,  was  all  that  the  captain  required  :  and 
considering  this  to  have  been  the  case,  I  am  astonished 
at  the  almost  unbroken  good  conduct  of  such  a  number 
of  young  men,  brought  together  with  no  very  definite 
idea  of  what  it  was  to  submit  their  will  to  that  of  a 
superior,  or  of  the  necessity  which  teaches  men  the 
value  of  discipline.  As  it  was,  we  heard  and  saw  noth- 
ing bordering  on  either  insubordination  or  coercion. 
They  were  for  the  most  part  sons  of  substantial  farm- 
ers and  settlers,  and  some  certainly  accustomed  from 
their  earliest  years  to  study  the  craft  of  a  backwoods- 
man. Such  was  Ryan,  a  fine  old  man,  who,  out  of 
love  to  the  hunter's  life,  had  joined  the  expedition  and 
the  messes  of  those  far  younger  and  less  experienced 
than  himself.  He  was  a  fine  specimen  of  that  race  for 
which  the  frontier  has  been  celebrated  ever  since  Dan- 
iel Boone  led  the  way  across  the  mountains.  He  had 
begun  to  hunt  and  kill  the  deer,  when  yet  so  young 
that  his  father's  rifle  had  to  be  supported  upon  his  little 
shoulder  by  both  hands ;  when  the  paternal  hunting- 
pocket  hung  far  under  his  loins,  and  when  he  had  to 
get  upon  a  tree  stump  to  ram  the  ball  home. 

A  dozen  of  the  men,  perhaps,  turned  out  really  good 
hunters  ;  and,  in  the  skilful  use  of  the  rifle,  might  do 
justice  to  the  fame  which  has  been  earned  by  the  back- 
woodsman. 

The  whole  science  of  rifle-shooting,  and  the  rifles  in 
use  in  America,  are  so  different  from  those  of  Europe, 
and  of  Switzerland  and  the  Tyrol  in  particular,  that 
you  can  hardly  draw  a  comparison  between  the  merits 
of  the  rival  parties.  The  rifle  of  central  Europe  is  a 
much  heavier  weapon,  and  carries  a  much  heavier  ball, 
— not  unfrequently  twenty  to  the  pound.  The  groov- 
ing is  deeper,  and  a  greater  degree  of  force  necessary 
for  the  introduction  of  the  ball.  Skill  in  its  use  con- 
sists rather  in  hitting  a  man  or  an  animal  at  three  hun- 
dred paces,  than  in  cutting  the  jugular  vein  with  cer- 
tainty at  fifty  feet.  The  American  weapon  is,  perhaps, 
as  long  or  longer,  carrying  generally  a  small  ball  of 
eighty,  or  of  even  one  hundred  to  the  pound.    It  ad- 


THE  RANGERS. 


151 


mils  the  ball  being  sent  home  from  the  very  muzzle 
by  a  mere  rod  ;  and  is  further  peculiar  in  there  being 
no  kind  of  attention  paid  to  balancing  the  length  and 
weight  of  the  barrel  by  the  size  and  make  of  the  stock. 
Practice  alone  will  teach  you  to  hold  it  with  ease  to 
yourself.  There  is  a  great  deal  more  coquetry  dis- 
played in  the  use  of  the  American  rifle  ;  and  the  nicety 
with  which  an  object  may  be  struck  at  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred feet  by  a  knowing  hand  is  undoubtedly  extraor- 
dinary. 

The  Captain,  the  Doctor,  and  Ryan,  were,  perhaps, 
the  best  shots  of  the  party.  But  still,  a  word  of  the 
Rangers.  I  have  told  you  that  the  military  duties 
were  not  severe.  With  the  exception  of  the  sentinels, 
of  whom  three  or  four  were  commonly  posted  round 
the  camp,  more  for  the  sake  of  keeping  up  an  air  of 
discipline  at  this  period  of  the  expedition,  than  from 
any  real  necessity  for  such  a  precaution, — from  the 
moment  their  horses  were  hobbled,  and  sent  hopping 
into  the  adjoining  forest,  to  the  hour  preceding  depar- 
ture, when  they  had  to  be  sought  for  and  brought  into 
camp, — the  men  had  their  time  to  themselves.  A  large 
portion  was  spent  in  eating  and  sleeping,  and  the  ex- 
citement incident  to  our  position  made  some  portion  fly 
fast,  yet  sufficient  remained  upon  their  hands  to  render 
its  occupation  no  easy  matter.  Books  they  had  none  ; 
they  were  neither  botanists,  nor  humorists,  nor  admi- 
rers of  the  picturesque  ;  so  when  neither  their  horses, 
nor  persons,  nor  accoutrements  demanded  further  atten- 
tion, they  had  little  to  do,  you  will  think,  but  to  lie  on 
their  backs,  and  look  up  at  the  sky,  or  at  the  burning 
logs.  Far  from  it.  We  found  before  we  had  been  a 
week  in  the  camp,  that  the  most  decided  appetite  of 
barter,  or  as  it  was  termed  '  swopping,'  had  descended, 
or  I  should  perhaps  say,  arisen  among  them  ;  and  this 
increased  to  a  perfect  contagion.  It  was  a  never-failing 
source  of  amusement  to  the  lookers-on,  in  messes  No. 
1,  and  No.  2,  to  see  the  daily  metamorphoses  that  took 
place.  Nothing  but  the  actual  person  seemed  to  be 
exempt  from  the  influence  of  swopping.   Horses,  sad- 


152 


THE  RANGERS. 


dies,  rifles,  clothes  of  every  kind,  exchanged  masters,  and 
you  could  never  be  certain  of  an  individual  till  you 
sa.w  his  face.  There  was  a  notable  green  blanket-coat 
which  was  borne  forth  from  the  garrison  on  the  back 
of  a  man  named  Guess,  whom  I  had  hired,  as  orderly, 
to  take  charge  of  my  spare  horse,  and  which,  before 
we  reached  the  Fort  on  our  return,  bad  clothed  the 
shoulders  of  half  the  Rangers  in  succession.  Though 
in  general  we  were  considered  beyond  the  influence  of 
this  epidemic,  on  one  occasion  I  had  it  offered  to  me 
by  a  Ranger,  who  took  a  fancy  to  my  buckskin  hunt- 
ing-shirt, and  wished  to  beguile  me  into  a  swop. — 
Many  tales  reached  our  ears  of  the  superior  cunning 
and  calculation  of  divers  among  them  ;  but  of  these  I 
will  only  mention  the  case  of  one  man  who  was  con- 
tinually swopping  his  horse,  and  on  our  return  to  Fort 
Gibson,  possessed  the  very  animal  he  had  started  with, 
and  sixty  dollars  into  the  bargain.  I  need  not  indicate 
from  what  part  of  the  Union  such  a  sly  fox  must  have 
come.  One  or  two  of  the  older  and  steadier  rangers 
kept  aloof  out  of  the  vortex,  and  among  these  Ryan, 
and  a  comical  old  fellow,  the  butt  of  the  troop,  of  the 
name  of  Sawyer.  He  was  one  of  those  strange  mix- 
tures of  simplicity  and  shrewdness  that  you  sometimes 
meet  with.  Dame  nature  seems  every  now  and  then 
to  turn  out  a  few  individuals  made  up  of  scraps  and 
leavings  ;  some  as  far  as  their  physique  is  concerned, 
others  as  to  the  intellect :  and  in  the  same  manner  as 
you  may  have  noted  a  man  here  and  there  whose 
head,  feet,  and  hands  were  evidently  intended  for  a 
personage  of  large  dimensions,  while  the  trunk  might 
be  puny,  disproportioned,  and  insignificant — in  the 
same  manner  the  most  inconsistent  and  incongruous 
ingredients  seem  to  have  been  thrown  together  to  fash- 
ion the  minds  of  certain  individuals.  Sawyer  generally 
asked  for  a  furlough  three  times  a  day  when  in  camp, 
and  was  celebrated  for  losing  himself,  and  spending 
the  night  nobody  knew  where.  He  was  used  as  a 
*  cat's-paw'  by  the  men,  whenever  they  wished  to  pry 
into  the  plans  and  designs  of  the  oflScers. 


LIFE  BEYOND  THE  SETTLEMENTS. 


153 


As  to  ourselves,  we  had  amusement  and  excite- 
ment enough  without  swopping-.  We  had  agreed 
from  the  outset,  that  as  the  three  domestics  had 
their  hands  full  with  the  care  of  the  general  dispo- 
sition of  our  affairs  while  in  camp,  and  the  charge 
of  loading  and  unloading  pack-horses,  that  each  of 
us  should  continue  to  look  to  his  own  steed — un- 
saddling and  hobbling  him  in  the  first  instance,  and 
when  brought  into  camp  the  following  morning, 
taking  off  the  vile  hobbles  and  preparing  him  for 
the  start.  There  was  no  hardship  in  this,  if  I  ex- 
cept unhobbling,  as  the  knot  with  which  the  feet 
were  strongly  secured,  during  the  course  of  a  long 
night  spent  in  hopping  through  the  damp  grass, 
became  often  hard  as  iron,  and  as  wet  as  a  sponge  ; 
and  many  a  time  have  I  begun  to  lose  my  equanimity, 
and  been  on  the  point  of  using  my  knife,  after  five 
minutes  were  thrown  away  with  alternate  application 
of  teeth  and  fingers,  vainly  attempting  to  unloose 
the  Gordian  tie.  For  the  rest,  all  seemed  to  inspire 
pleasure  ;  and  when  we  subsequently  met  in  the 
gay  saloons  of  the  eastern  cities,  we  often  recalled 
those  days  of  adventure  and  light  heartedness. 

We  had  left  the  busy  world  to  the  eastward  seeth- 
ing like  a  caldron  with  excitement.  To  the  or- 
dinary bustle  and  stir  of  a  people  straining  with 
soul  and  body  for  the  acquisition  of  wealth — that 
attendant  upon  the  pending  election  of  a  President, 
and  the  presence  of  that  fearful  scourge,  the  cholera, 
which  had  just  then  reached  the  line  of  the  western 
waters,  was  added.  Here,  alone,  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  wilderness,  we  moved  day  by  day  ;  lay  down 
at  night,  and  rose  in  the  morning  in  peace  and  quiet. 
We  were  like  a  vessel  moored  in  a  sheltered  haven, 
within  the  breakers,  and  out  of  the  reach  of  the  tem- 
pest raging  in  the  open  sea.  Those  who  have  never 
moved  out  of  the  narrow  sphere  in  which  all  is  arti- 
ficial ;  where'^the  possession  of  much  makes  the  at- 
tainment of  more  an  absolute  necessity ;  where 
luxuries  appear  to  be  necessaries  ; — can  hardly  con- 
ceive^  how  little  is  in  reality  essential,  not  only  for 


154        LIFE  BEYOND  THE  SETTLEMENTS. 


existence,  but  for  contentment ;  or  what  a  pliant  and 
easily  moulded  mind  and  body  we  possess.  Get  only- 
over  your  prejudice  and  try,  and  there  are  thou- 
sands of  so-called  comforts  that  you  can  do  without 
— and  of  things  which  you  can  do  for  yourself. 

I  look  back  with  peculiar  delight  to  our  mode  of  life, 
and  our  intercourse  with  a  few  trusty  friends,  on  these 
and  our  succeeding  autumnal  wanderings.  Both  were 
spent  far  away  beyond  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  great 
highways  of  existence.  Surely,  without  having  expe- 
rienced it,  you  can  find  excuse  for  my  enthusiasm. 

Our  connection  with  the  world  being  cut  off,  we  en- 
joyed a  perfect  absence  of  annoyance  from  without. 
The  year  was  too  far  advanced  for  insect  plagues,  at 
the  same  time  that  the  season  was  so  mild  and  genial 
that,  with  few  exceptions,  our  tent  was  thrown  aside 
as  useless. 

To  quit  one  trampled  and  despoiled  camp  just  when 
the  morning  light  began  to  reveal  its  loss  of  beauty, 
and  turning  our  faces  toward  the  west  with  the  assur- 
ance that,  please  God,  though  none  could  say  where, 
we  should  find  another  place  of  repose  in  the  day's 
decline  in  all  its  pristine  loveliness; — to  hold  our  march 
hour  after  hour  over  the  untrodden  waste,  or  through 
the  forest — now  breaking  our  way  through  a  thick 
grove,  then  breathing  the  free  air  of  the  open  prairie, 
or  the  scented  brake  of  mint  and  sumac — beguiling  the 
hours  in  conversation,  and  losing  sight  of  the  mono- 
tony of  the  scenery  presented  for  weeks  to  our  view,  in 
the  excitement  afforded  by  the  constant  lookout  for 
game,  or  speculation  upon  the  trails  of  the  Indians 
now  and  then  fallen  in  with — who  they  were — of  what 
tribe — hostile  or  friendly — when  they  passed  ; — to 
watch  the  fleet  course  of  the  startled  deer  over  the  un- 
dulating prairie — or  to  listen  to  the  wailing  cry  of  the 
cranes  above  our  heads,  descried  like  so  many  white 
specks  floating  in  the  blue  ether;  finally,  to  choose  our 
new  abode  in  the  tall  deep  forest  by  the  river  side,  or 
among  those  exquisite  groups  on  the  higher  grounds, 
where  the  forest  merges  into  the  prairie,  and  forms 
landscapes  teeming  with  all  the  charming  varieties  of 


LIFE  BEYOND  THE  SETTLEMENTS.  I55 


English  park-scenery — was  not  all  this  delightful  ? 
Andj  when  the  little  share  of  toil  and  care  which  fell  to 
the  lot  of  each  alike  was  concluded  ;  and  the  hours  in- 
tervening before  sunset,  which  each  passed  as  he  list- 
ed, were  ended, — when  each  came  dropping  in  from 
his  walk  or  the  chase,  and  the  fire  grew  momentarily- 
brighter  and  brighter,  as,  enjoying  our  hunters'  repast, 
the  twilight  gloom  settled  down  among  the  trees, — 
when  the  evening  tale  and  sober  mirth  were  prolonged, 
till  each  in  turn  stole  to  his  chosen  nook  in  the  tall 
grass,  or  on  the  thick  leaves  which  the  autumnal  forest 
shed — were  not  our  pleasures  equally  simple  and 
guileless  ? 

The  blessing  of  sound  sleep  seemed  to  be  denied  to 
none  who  needed  it :  and  yet  I  delighted  to  wake  in 
the  stillness  of  the  long  night,  and  to  rouse  my  spirit 
from  its  lethargy  ;  to  open  my  eyes  upon  the  deep  blue 
sky,  with  its  host  of  stars,  over-head  ;  to  glance  upon 
the  dying  fires  and  sleeping  camp;  to  muse  upon  the 
past  and  the  present  :  to  raise  my  heart  to  heaven  ; 
and,  without  taking  care  for  the  future,  to  bless  God 
for  a  portion  of  those  sweet  and  healthful  thoughts 
which  spring  from  a  calm  and  contented  spirit,  and  in- 
cite my  soul  to  gratitude  for  this  lull  and  calm  in  the 
midst  of  the  heaving  and  restless  sea  of  existence. 

Previous  to  October  22d,  when  we  crossed  the  Red 
Fork,  having  proceeded  about  eighty  miles  up  the 
country  on  the  left  bank  in  a  south-west  direction, 
— our  advance  was  rather  broken,  and  the  numbers 
of  our  company  became  diminished  by  divers  among 
the  Rangers  having  been  obHged  to  return  eastward, 
either  through  ill  health  or  as  bearers  of  despatches. 
Five  or  six  of  the  horses  belonging  to  the  men  had 
also  taken  it  into  their  heads  to  hobble  away  from  us, 
so  that  our  line  was  often  a  very  straggling  one,  and 
the  laggards  were  more  than  once  a  whole  day's 
journey  in  the  rear. 

The  character  of  the  country  thus  far  had  been  more 
hilly  than  usual  in  these  western  regions.  Along  the 
immediate  banks  of  the  river,  rich  alluvial  bottoms 


156        THE  PRAIRIES  OF  THE  FAR  WEST. 

were  ordinarily  met  with  ;  but  the  greater  part  of  the 
upper  and  open  country  was  barren  in  the  extreme  ; 
nothing  but  a  scanty  soil  covering  the  bright  red  sand- 
stone which  frequently  protruded  to  the  surface,  and  ap- 
peared strewed  with  pebbles  of  rich  nodulous  iron-ore. 

For  the  first  ten  or  twelve  days  of  our  march  the 
horses  had  found  a  sufficiency  of  pasturage  in  the 
rich  brakes  of  the  lower  ground,  the  pea-vine  being  still 
plentiful,  and  the  grass  green  and  sweet.  Deer  were 
also  numerous,  and  smaller  game  ;  and  moreover  the 
men  had  been  furnished  with  rations  for  a  fortnight. 
At  or  before  the  expiration  of  that  term,  they  confident- 
ly calculated  upon  reaching  the  buffalo-range,  and 
there  procuring  the  necessary  provisions  for  the  prose- 
cution of  the  enterprise  and  subsequent  return ;  so  that 
upon  our  coming  in  contact  with  the  herds  of  that 
animal,  not  only  much  of  our  anticipated  gratification 
depended,  but  even  the  success  of  the  expedition. 

As  we  advanced,  therefore,  deeper  into  the  country 
from  the  Arkansas,  we  looked  out  anxiously  for  some 
indications  of  our  vicinity  to  the  buffalo  ;  and  to  this 
object  of  constant  speculation  and  attention,  yet  ano- 
ther was  added,  and  that  was  ^Pawnee-sign.'  The 
region  into  which  we  were  now  advancing  might  not 
unaptly  be  termed  the  Debateable  Land  of  this  part  of 
the  continent:  an  arena  upon  which  parties  of  the  hos- 
tile tribes  of  the  east  and  the  west  continually  scouted 
in  pursuit  oYthe  buffalo  and  elk,  which  they  accounted 
common  property,  and  to  earn  their  claim  to  the  war- 
eagle's  feather,  the  skunk-skin,  and  the  necklace  of 
grisly  bears'  claws  of  the  warrior,  by  the  bringing 
away  the  scalps  of  those  whom  they  meet  and  can  sur- 
prise. Few  years  pass  but  blood  is  shed  upon  these 
deserts,  and  many  a  spot  is  marked  by  the  scenes  of 
Indian  surprise  and  unprovoked  murder,  or  by  the  still 
more  fearful  harvest  of  revenge  and  retaliation.  From 
the  Osage,  Creeks,  and  Cherokees,  of  course  we  had 
nothing  to  fear,  however  they  might  no  wand  then  shed 
each  otfier's  blood.  Their  interests  are  too  nearly  in- 
volved with  that  of  the  Pale-face,  for  them  to  meditate 


THE  PAWNEES. 


157 


further  wrong  than  perhaps  the  theft  of  a  stray  horse. 
But  with  the  Pawnee,  who  would  appear  to  be  the  Arab 
of  the  West,  whose  hand  is  against  every  one,  from  their 
far  settlements  on  the  tributaries  of  the  Missouri  to  the 
Great  Red  River, — and  with  the  bands  of  the  Comman- 
ches,  who  make  incursions  into  the  same  plains  from  the 
Mexican  border,  the  case  was  different.  These  tribes 
differ  from  those  near  the  Mississippi  in  many  res- 
pects ;  and  though,  from  their  less  frequent  intercourse 
with  Europeans,  they  are  seldom  found  to  be  furnished 
with  fire-arms,  and  are  in  so  far  less  formidable,  yet 
the  excellence  of  their  horses,  the  celerity  of  their  move- 
ments, and  their  personal  address  and  numbers,  give 
them  advantages  which  the  others  have  not.  In  their 
roving  existence  north  and  south,  as  they  follow  the 
trail  of  the  immense  herds  of  buffalo  in  their  annual 
migration,  they  are  often  found  six  or  seven  hundred 
miles  from  their  villages  ;  and  in  seeking  the  one,  you 
always  run  a  chance  of  falling  in  with  the  other.  It 
may  occur  to  you,  that  even  if  we  fell  in  with  a  horde 
of  a  few  hundreds  of  them,  a  body  of  sixty  armed  men, 
under  proper  disciphne,  would  have  little  to  fear  from 
their  hostility  ;  yet,  setting  aside  the  danger  of  surprise, 
there  were  contingent  circumstances,  which,  if  not  po- 
sitively as  disagreeable  and  dangerous  as  losing  a  fight 
and  coming  immediately  into  their  power,  might  even- 
tually prove  nearly  as  bad.  Such  would  be  the  loss  of 
any  number  of  our  horses,  the  murder  of  the  stragglers 
and  hunters,  when  our  very  numbers  would  be  against 
us  rather  than  for  us,  especially  at  this  advanced  sea- 
son. So  you  may  well  imagine  that  our  scouts  did 
right  to  use  their  eyes,  and  that  singular  intelligence 
which  is  taught  by  a  hfe  of  constant  exposure  to  want 
and  danger ;  and  that  the  higher  we  advanced  up  the 
country  the  more  interest  was  attached  to  Indian  trails, 
marks  of  Indian  encampments,  and  any  moving  speck 
upon  the  vast  rolling  prairie  around  us. 

As  to  the  buffalo,  our  eagerness  to  fall  in  with  him 
increased  day  by  day.  Its  habits  are  well  known,  and 
I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  the  vulgar  name  is  a  misno- 

VOL.  I.  14 


158 


THE  BISON. 


mer,  as  this  animal  differs  in  many  essential  points  from 
either  the  Itahan  or  the  African  species  of  urus  bear- 
ing it.  The  hump  on  the  shoulders,  the  mane  and  beard, 
and  the  form  of  the  horns,  which  are  short  and  sharp, 
all  distinguish  the  bison  of  America  from  the  other 
species,  not  to  speak  of  anatomical  distinctions.  They 
were  now  known  to  be  moving  from  the  north,  whither 
their  vast  herds  had  followed  the  genial  growth  of  the 
fresh  grass,  as  it  sprung  up  under  one  degree  of  lati- 
tude after  another,  and  to  be  repairing  to  the  southern 
rivers  and  plains  to  seek  their  winter  food. 

Like  the  Indian,  they  too  have  had  to  forsake  their 
original  domains  and  retire  into  the  waste.  Anciently, 
they  were  known  to  have  roamed  over  the  western  parts 
of  the  State  of  New  York.  At  the  time  that  the  first 
adventurers  crossed  the  Alleghany,  sixty  years  ago, 
the  rich  forests  and  cane-brakes  of  Kentucky  and  Ten- 
nessee swarmed  with  them.  Now  there  is  not  one  to 
be  found  east  of  the  Mississippi :  and  as  man  has  pen- 
etrated, year  by  year,  hundreds  of  miles  to  the  west- 
ward, so  the  bison  has  fled  his  presence,  and  yearly 
interposes  a  good  hundred  miles  between  its  pathway 
and  the  nearest  settlements,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
'  white  man's  fly,'  as  the  Indian  terms  the  bee,  which  is 
said  always  to  move  in  advance  of  the  encroaching  Pale- 
face. A  very  few  years  back,  and  the  bison  might  be  met 
with  and  killed  in  the  centre  of  the  Arkansas  Terri 
tory  ;  but  we  had  now  advanced  a  hundred  miles  be- 
yond its  remotest  limit,  and  had  not  yet  met  with  them. 
Their  jealousy  of  the  approach  of  man  is  no  safeguard 
to  them ;  and  their  vast  strength  and  fierceness  when 
attacked  are  of  no  avail  against  the  perseverance  and 
means  of  annoyance  of  their  numerous  enemies.  The 
Indians,  the  trapper,  and  the  white  hunter,  kill  thou- 
sands yearly.  The  wolves  hunt  the  straggling  cows 
and  calves  in  packs.  Nearer  the  mountains  the  grisly- 
bear  fattens  upon  their  flesh  ;  but  as  yet  their  numbers 
appear  undiminished  and  undiminishable.  Ten  thou- 
sand in  a  single  drove  have  frequently  been  seen 
further  west  toward  the  head- waters  of  the  Arkansas  ; 


THE  PRAIRIES  OF  THE  FAR  WEST.  159 


and  their  trample  and  roaring,  when  pursued,  is  said 
to  shake  the  earth  long  before  they  are  seen,  and  to  fill 
the  air  with  a  sound  like  distant  thunder. 

How  it  is,  that  an  enterprising  people  like  the  Amer- 
icans have  not  long  ago  domesticated  this  animal,  and 
crossed  the  breed  of  European  cattle,  is  to  me  a  mys- 
tery. However  frequently  asserted,  we  never  heard 
of  a  well-accredited  instance  of  its  being  attempted 
successfully. 

But  to  resume  the  history  of  our  adventures  and 
achievements  : 

Two  days  before  we  crossed  the  Red  Fork,  the  re- 
cent signs  of  the  bison,  which  had  hitherto  been  very 
dubious,  became  more  and  more  evident,  frequent,  and 
certain;  and  at  length  the  joyful  report  of  a  few  bulls 
and  wild  horses  having  been  actually  seen,  was  brought 
into  camp  by  some  of  the  stragglers.  Dung,  bones, 
and  innumerable  hoof-inarks^  were  first  descried  ;  then 
hollow  places  in  the  plains,  where  the  animals  had  wal- 
lowed ;  then,  tracts  of  many  acres  where  thousands  had 
trampled  and  crowded  for  years  in  their  passage,  allured 
by  a  spring  or  a  salt-lick,  appeared  depressed  far  below 
the  general  level  of  the  country.  At  the  same  time, 
Beatte  proclaimed  '  Pawnee-sign/  and  for  the  first  time, 
by  way  of  precaution,  the  horses  were  tied  up  at  night, 
and  the  sentinel  began  to  find  that  he  must  not  doze  on 
his  post,  as  he  had  hitherto  done  as  a  matter  of  course. 

The  following  day,  after  traversing  apparently  inter- 
minable prairies,  furrowed  by  the  deep  straight  trails 
of  the  bison,  which,  with  the  tokens  of  mounted  Indians 
having  been  on  their  traces,  kept  us  on  the  '  qui  vive^ 
all  day,  we  collected  our  scattered  party  towards  even- 
ing in  a  deep-wooded  copse,  and  prepared  to  ford  the 
adjoining  river  early  the  following  morning ;  passing 
the  remaining  hours  of  daylight  in  some  kind  of  general 
preparation— cleaning  our  arms,  melting  balls,  and 
listening  with  m.ore  than  even  usual  indulgence  to  the 
egotistical  rhapsodies  of  Tonish,  which  always  ended 
w^ith  a  huge  indefinite  promise  for  the  future,  couched 
in  the  words :  *  Ah,  qu-qu-que  vous  verez  /' 


160 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  WAR. 


It  was  amusing  to  see  the  effect  of  the  life  we  were 
leading,  and  the  company  we  were  associated  with,  on 
the  spirits  of  the  most  peaceable  among  us.  There  was 
the  good,  kind-hearted  commissioner,  whose  career  had 
never  been  stained  up  to  the  present  time  by  act  of 
violence  to  beast  or  bird,  girding  himself  in  his  own 
quiet  way  for  the  expected  rencontre  with  biped  or 
quadruped  savages,  and  breathing  destruction  to  the 
innocent  skunks  and  turkeys.  There  too  was  to  be 
seen  our  friend  Irving — the  kindly  impulse  of  w^hose 
nature  is  to  love  every  living  thing — ramming  a  couple 
of  bullets  home  into  a  brace  of  old  brass-barrelled  pis- 
tols which  had  been  furnished  him  from  the  armory  at 
Fort  Gibson,  with  a  flourish  of  the  ramrod,  a  compres- 
sion of  the  lip,  and  a  twinkle  of  the  eye,  which  decidedly 
betokened  mischief.  As  to  my  comrade,  incited  by  the 
marvellous  tales  of  Tonish,  it  was  dangerous  to  hunt  in 
a  jungle  with  him,  such  was  his  anxiety  to  have  a  shot 
at  the  bison. 

You  may  recollect  I  mentioned  in  a  former  letter,  a 
certain  double-barrelled  fowling-piece  which  the  com- 
missioner had  brought  away  from  a  government  agent 
on  the  Missouri.  It  had  kept  us  company  ever  since, 
going  among  us  usually  by  the  name  of  '  Uncle  Sam,' 
such  was  the  soubriquet  given  by  the  Americans  to  the 
General  Government,  from  the  usual  initials  U.  S.  or 
United  States,  affixed  upon  government  property. 

It  was  a  piece  of  respectably  ancient  mould  and  fa- 
bric, about  four  inches  across  the  breech^  and  two  at 
the  muzzle  ;  and,  when  its  old-fashioned  locks  were  at 
full-cock,  looked  sufficiently  formidable,  from  tfie  man- 
ner in  which  they  appeared  strained  to  the  uttermost, 
lying  down  upon  their  backs  previous  to  taking  the 
spring.  Hitherto,  however,  it  had  been  the  most  inno- 
cent piece  in  the  whole  troop.  At  the  time  we  got 
possession  of  it,  it  had  been  found  to  be  in  a  most  ridi- 
culous state  of  repletion,  being  full  of  successive  charges 
of  powder  and  ball,  and  vice  versa^  nearly  to  the  muz- 
zle. Being  the  property  of  the  commonwealth,  nobody 
in  particular  had  thought  it  his  business  to  look  after 


UNCLE  SAM. 


161 


it.  Three  weeks  prior  to  the  time  I  commemorate,  it 
had  been  put  into  my  hands  in  order  to  decide  what 
was  the  matter  with  it ;  as,  in  spite  of  every  appearance 
of  being  heavily  loaded,  it  obstinately  refused  to  go  off. 
I  had  found  three  buck-shot  under  the  powder  in  one 
barrel,  and  a  roll  of  dogwood  shavings  and  tow  in 
the  chamber  of  the  other.  How  they  came  there  no 
one  could  tell ;  but  it  appeared,  that  whoever  had  an 
idle  moment  and  nothing  to  occupy  his  fingers  upon, 
amused  himself  by  ramming  something  or  other  down 
into  '  Uncle  Sam.'  Weil,  this  evening  a  bright  thought 
struck  the  commissioner  ;  the  piece  was  straightway 
poked  out  from  among  the  baggage,  where  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  see  it,  projecting  like  a  stern-chaser 
over  the  crupper  of  old  Gombo,  one  of  the  baggage 
horses,  and  serious  intentions  were  evidently  enter- 
tained of  using  it  against  the  buffalo  or  the  Pawnees. 
But  to  war  against  any  living  thing  seemed  to  be  quite 
contrary  to  its  principles.  It  was  found  again  to  be 
heavily  loaded,  but  again  refused  to  go  off.  It  was  of 
course  without  a  ramrod.  One  of  dogwood,  and  that 
a  crooked  one,  was  manufactured  for  it  by  the  patient 
hands  of  the  commissioner,  which  with  great  trouble 
was  inserted.  It  was  yet  with  greater  difficulty  with- 
drawn, and  a  good  hour  was  passed  in  attempting  to 
make  it  disgorge  a  mass  of  unknown  contents.  At 
length,  having  been  put  into  some  kind  of  trim,  it  was 
included  in  the  sum  of  effective  weapons  in  the  field, 
and  you  shall  not  fail  to  hear  of '  Uncle  Sam's'  further 
adventures. 

Just  before  we  descended  to  covert  from  the  higher 
grounds,  we  had  seen  a  wild  horse  dashing  across  our 
line  of  march.  It  was  the  first  we  had  met  with,  but, 
however  its  appearance  seemed  to  excite  general  atten- 
tion at  the  time,  after  getting  to  camp,  no  more  was 
thought  of  it.  The  breed  of  horses  which  are  scat- 
tered in  numbers  over  these  plains,  is  a  cross  between 
those  introduced  by  the  Spaniards  and  French,  but 
are,  with  single  exceptions,  rather  a  degenerate  race 
both  in  appearance  and  power. 

14* 


162  THE  WILD  HORSE. 

According  to  his  custom,  Beatte,  after  seeing  that 
his  services  could  be  dispensed  with,  disappeared,  and 
shortly  after  dark  returned,  to  the  great  surprise  of  all, 
with  a  wild  horse  in  his  lasso.  He  had  dashed  off  on 
the  trail  of  that  we  had  seen ;  had  crossed  the  Red 
Fork,  and  met  both  with  horses  and  a  troop  of  bison. 
He  had  run  down  one  of  the  former  in  the  dusk,  noosed 
him,  detained  him  while  his  comrades  fled  deeper  into 
the  wilderness,  and  succeeded  in  bringing  him  home 
in  triumph,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the  rangers, 
by  whom  such  a  feat  was  hardly  considered  possible. 
The  captive  was  a  pretty  cream-coloured  animal,  with 
flowing  mane  and  tail^  and  a  large  full  eye,  beaming 
with  terror  and  surprise,  as  well  it  might,  at  its  unex- 
pected loss  of  liberty,  and  introduction  among  the 
camp-fires  to  the  scene  of  so  much  noise  and  bustle. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  bugle  gave  order  to 
resume  our  Indian  file,  the  *  desert-born'  appeared  in 
the  midst  of  us,  to  begin  his  life  of  servitude.  The 
lasso  was  still  round  his  neck.  His  eye,  naturally  full 
of  gentleness,  dilated  with  terror  whenever  the  fond 
hands  of  the  bystanders  approached  him  ;  and  this 
feeling  seemed  to  be  increased  to  agony,  when  the 
captor  succeeded  in  securing  a  light  burden  on  his 
back.  But  even  to  this  sad  alternative  to  perfect  free- 
dom, he  yielded  at  last  with  a  tolerably  good  grace, 
after  a  few  last  groans,  and  a  roll  on  the  ground.  I 
believe  that  there  was  more  than  one  amongst  us  v/ho 
felt  his  sympathies  strongly  moved  for  the  gentle  crea- 
ture, and  heartily  inclined  to  regret  the  capture. 

Our  passage  of  the  Fork  was  made  without  delay 
or  accident,  in  spite  of  the  deep  red  mud  which  formed 
the  bed  of  the  river.  We  crossed  on  the  trails  of  a 
large  herd  of  bison,  w^hich  seemed  to  have  chosen  the 
same  ford,  and  now  stood  on  Pawnee  ground.  The 
colour  of  this  river  [  have  already  alluded  to.  The 
briny  taste  of  its  waters,  as  they  poured  down  from  a 
region  abounding,  not  only  in  salt  springs,  but  in 
masses  of  pure  rock-salt,  rendered  it  thoroughly  un- 
potable. 


THE  CROSS  TIMBERS. 


163 


Our  direction  was  now  to  the  southward,  leaving  the 
course  of  the  river  tending  much  more  to  the  west  than 
it  had  hitherto  done.  My  next  shall  give  you  a  con- 
densed sketch  of  our  proceedings  to  the  close  of  the 
ensuing  week,  when  we  halted  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Great  Canadian. 


LETTER  XV. 

The  dark  brown  horizon  which  appeared  before  us 
as  we  emerged  from  the  deep  bed  of  the  river,  was 
known  to  be  the  Cross  Timbers,  a  broad  belt  of  dwarf 
oak  forest,  rarely  interrupted  by  prairie,  extending 
across  the  country,  from  the  Red  Fork  to  the  Great 
Canadian,  in  the  direction  of  North  and  South.  Its 
mean  breadth,  by  the  report  of  the  Indians,  was  twelve 
or  fourteen  miles,  and  it  was  now  our  object  to  cross  it 
in  a  south-westerly  direction.  None  of  our  party,  1 
think,  will  ever  forget  that  hilly  stony  region,  with  its 
almost  impenetrable  forest  of  the  closest  and  harshest 
growth,  whose  low,  rugged  branches,  black  and  hard  as 
iron  with  the  alternate  extremes  of  frost  and  fire,  cost 
us  many  a  fierce  scramble  and  struggle  on  our  passage 
both  to  and  from  the  Canadian. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  first  day,  while  skirt- 
ing the  Cross  Timbers,  we  appeared  to  be  in  the  line 
of  march  of  thousands  of  bison.  The  banks  of  the 
Red  Fork  were  in  many  places  perfectly  broken  down 
by  their  tracks,  as,  in  long  lines,  one  after  the  other,  in 
Indian  file,  they  had  proceeded  southward.  From 
this  time  we  continued  to  fall  in  with  divers  parties 
of  the  stragglers,  all  males.  On  the  evening  of  this 
day,  one  circumstance  broke  in  upon  the  monotony  of 
our  proceedings.  We  had  pitched  our  camp.  In 
doing  this  latterly,  more  attention  had  been  paid  to 
the  choice  of  a  defensible  position.    As  was  my  cus- 


164 


THE  CROSS  TIMBERS. 


torn  after  seeing  my  horse  provided  for,  I  was  scout- 
ing over  the  country  at  some  distance  from  the  camp, 
about  an  hour  before  sundown,  when  I  met  the  cap- 
tain returning  in  great  haste.  He  said  he  had  reason 
to  believe  that  there  were  Indians  in  our  neighbour- 
hood, and  urged  my  immediate  return.  The  alarm 
soon  spread,  and  the  scene  of  confusion  which  ensued 
was  amusing  enough,  as,  in  hasty  preparation  for  a 
fight,  the  horse-bells  were  instantly  muffled,  fires  ex- 
tinguished, arms  prepared,  and  the  horses  brought  in 
and  resaddled.  An  anxious  uncertainty  prevailed  for 
a  few  hours,  till  most  of  the  stragglers  came  in  ;  and 
it  was  believed,  after  comparing  notes,  that  the  cap- 
tain and  some  of  his  own  party  had  been  dodging  one 
another  in  the  misty  haze,  and  thus  the  mistake  had 
arisen.  However,  a  night  alarm  ensued  by  a  sentinel 
shooting,  as  he  said,  at  a  wolf,  and  I  believe  the  panic 
was  of  some  use,  as  it  made  all  parties  more  watchful 
and  alert. 

We  were  now  employed  for  several  days  in  strug- 
gling through  the  Cross  Timbers.  At  the  same  time 
matters  began  to  change  with  us  rather  for  the  worse. 
The  encampment  became  poorer  and  poorer,  aflfording 
neither  pasture  for  the  horses,  nor  even  water,  in  any 
great  quantity,  and  the  little  we  found  was  generally 
bad.  We  began  to  look  after  one  of  the  thousands  of 
*  sweet  and  curious  brooks'  which  gush  forth  on  the 
Atlantic  side  of  the  Alleghany.  We  found  no  more 
deer.  The  bison  hitherto  seen  had  been  males  only  ; 
and  even  when  shot  had  been  killed  far  from  camp,  so 
that  but  little  of  the  meat  could  be  transported  thither. 
The  supplies  of  fresh  provision  were  therefore  a  little 
irregular  and  uncertain.  Of  course,  the  rations  brought 
from  the  garrison  had  long  ago  disappeared.  The 
bears  truly  were  plentiful  and  fat,  from  feeding  upon 
tlie  rich  harvest  of  acorns  which  covered  the  ground ; 
but  though  as  many  as  nine  were  seen  in  the  vicinity  of 
one  camp,  they  were  a  cowardly  set,  and'never  waited 
to  be  killed  ;  but  slunk  away  among  the  entangled 
brushwood,  till  out  of  sight,  and  then  shambled  off 


THE  CROSS  TIMBERS. 


165 


with  their  ungainly  gallop,  so  that  we  had  no  chance  of 
another  feast  of  bear's  venison.  But  the  most  serious 
matter  after  all,  was  the  fact,  that  many  of  the  horses 
began  to  fail.  Mr.  Irving's  strong  and  handsome  bay 
had  sprained  his  shoulder  before  we  crossed  the  Red 
Fork,  and  had  been,  of  necessity,  abandoned.  One 
of  my  two  steeds  had  been  useless  from  indisposition 
for  many  days.  Two  or  three  of  the  Rangers'  horses 
were  irrecoverably  lost,  and  among  them,  one,  whose 
master,  having  taken  a  fancy  to  hunt  wild  horses,  had 
the  vexation  to  find  himself  thrown  and  abandoned 
by  his  steed,  while  the  latter  galloped  off  to  the  desert 
with  the  troop.  In  short,  some  of  the  party  were 
already  on  foot,  and  others  were  speedily  threatened 
with  a  like  fate. 

In  the  Cross  Timbers  themselves,  no  animal  but  the 
bear  could  find  sustenance.  They  w^ere,  as  I  have 
before  said,  composed  almost  entirely  of  oak,  of  which 
I  enumerated  seven  distinct  species,  besides  varieties ; 
from  the  diminutive  pin-oak,  bearing  acorns  at  two 
years  growth,  to  the  large-cupped  burr-oak.  Properly 
speaking  there  was  no  undergrowth  but  a  coarse  grass. 
From  this  iron-bound  region,  we  generallycontrived  to 
escape  towards  night-fall,  and  to  seek  for  a  resting- 
place  in  one  of  those  spots  of  verdure  in  the  valleys, 
where  the  fading  green  and  yellow  foliage  of  the  cot- 
ton-wood poplar  forming  a  pleasing  contrast  to  the 
leafless  oak,  and  held  out  promise  of  our  obtaining 
the  indispensable  necessaries  of  wood  and  water. 

In  these  little  oases,  we  commonly  found  some  rem- 
nant of  the  riches  of  autumn, and  burying  ourselves 
and  our  horses  in  the  thicket,  made  our  position  as 
comfortable  as  we  could. 

Besides  the  above-mentioned  poplar,  together  with 
hickory,  walnut,  and  willows,  and  the  black  and  honey- 
locust,  we  found  a  rich  undergrowth  of  dogwood,  per- 
simmon, haws,  vines  with  sweet  and  sour  grapes, 
Chickasaw  plums  of  various  colours,  sassafras,  and 
abundance  of  green-brier  or  tear-blanket,  as  it  isfami- 


166 


THE  DESERTED  CAMP. 


liarly  called — besides  sumac,  the  delight  of  the  bears 
at  this  season. 

Such  a  camp  we  occupied  on  the  evening  of  the 
twenty-fourth,  and  a  beautiful  one  it  was  ;  we  killed  in 
its  neighbourhood  four  buffalo  bulls  and  twenty  turkeys, 
a  piece  of  good  fortune  which  we  knew  how  to  profit 
by,  and  lighting  our  fires  among  the  skeleton  bowers 
remaining  from  a  large  Osage  camp  of  the  preceding 
year,  we  here  spent  a  contented  night,  with  the  feeling, 
that  our  horses  would  get  at  least  one  night's  good 
pasturage. 

You  will  easily  conceive,  after  the  description  I  have 
given  you  of  the  Cross  Timbers,  that  we  always  hailed 
the  prospect  of  entering  upon  a  tract  of  open  prairie 
with  delight. 

It  was  something  to  breathe  the  pure  air,  and  have 
before  us  one  of  the  expanded  views  of  the  prairie, 
upon  whose  surface  every  object  was  a  matter  of  curi- 
osity and  speculation.  Their  hue,  it  is  true,  at  this  late 
season,  when  the  grass  is  dead,  was  one  monotonous 
brown — but  there  were  variations  produced  by  the 
alternations  of  sun  and  shade,  which  were  truly  sublime 
and  beautiful. 

The  morning  after  we  left  the  deserted  Osage  camp, 
after  two  hours'  most  laborious  struggle  in  the  forest, 
we  came  unexpectedly  in  sight  of  the  North  Fork  of 
the  Canadian.  The  coup  d'oeil  was  one  of  the  most 
peculiar  I  ever  beheld.  We  saw  before  us  a  meadow 
of  about  four  miles  long  by  one  in  breadth,  bounded 
towards  the  river  by  a  gigantic  grove  of  cotton-wood 
trees  indicating  the  course  of  the  river.  To  the  right 
appeared  a  large  troop  of  wild  horses,  and  to  the  left, 
towards  the  lower  end  of  the  prairie,  were  seen  the 
huge  backs  of  a  number  of  bison.  Measures  were  im- 
mediately taken  to  encircle  the  horses,  one  division  of 
the  party  proceeding  up  the  prairie  towards  them, 
under  shelter  of  the  woods,  and  another,  of  which  my 
companions  and  myself  formed  part,  moving  cautious- 
ly in  a  long  line  .across  towards  the  river.  It  was, 
however,  useless  to  attempt  to  take  them  by  surprise  ; 


THE  NORTH  FORK. 


167 


they  were  seen  instantly  to  snuff  the  air,  and  burst  off 
towards  the  river.  Their  passagewas  cut  off  in  that 
direction,  when  turning  southward  they  rushed  at  the 
top  of  their  speed  towards  our  scattered  line,  charged 
it  unmindful  of  our  shouts,  of  course  broke  through  it, 
and  were  pursued  by  the  whole  party,  pell-mell,  towards 
the  lower  end  of  the  plain  ;  scudding  down  with  them, 
and  for  a  moment  entangled  in  the  rout,  I  could  not 
avoid  keeping  my  eye  upon  the  buffaloes,  to  see  what 
they  would  decide  upon  doing.  They  seemed  to  have 
been  taking  a  nap,  for  they  lay  very  quiet  in  the  long 
grass,  till  the  tumult  coming  down  from  the  upper  part 
of  the  prairie  was  within  half  a  mile  of  them  :  when, 
with  more  promptitude  than  I  should  have  given  them 
credit  for,  they  appeared  to  have  made  up  their  minds 
that  there  was  something  more  than  ordinary  in  the 
wind,  and  gaining  their  legs,  began  to  shamble  off 
into  the  forest  in  such  good  earnest,  that  no  one  could 
get  a  shot  at  them.  When  the  race  was  terminated  by 
the  horses  gaining  the  wooded  country,  we  found  that 
two  of  their  number  had  been  captured  ;  one  of  the 
rangers  having  secured  a  fallen  mare,  while  Tonish, 
mounted  on  my  friend's  racer,  old  Crop,  had  actually 
noosed  a  young  foal ;  an  achievement  which  gave  him 
a  subject  for  self-praise  and  self-esteem,  for  the  rest  of 
the  expedition.  'Ah  !  qu-queje  vous  ai  ditP  reiterated 
the  vainglorious  Tonish  ! 

On  the  26th,  we  met  a  party  of  Osage  warriors  com- 
ing back  from  a  predatory  expedition  against  the 
Pawnees.  Horse-stealing  seemed  to  be  more  the  ob- 
ject of  their  adventure  than  scalps.  They  gave  us  to 
understand  that,  as  far  as  they  knew,  the  Pawnees  were 
at  present  more  to  the  southward,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Red  River;  intimating  that  having  been  unsuccessful 
in  their  buffalo  hunt,  they  were  suffering  greatly  from 
famine,  to  alleviate  which  they  had  fed  upon  many  of 
their  horses. 

These  thieving  Osage  warriors  were  fine  looking 
men,  and  much  persuasion  was  used  to  tempt  them  to 
turn  back  with  us  and  be  our  guides,  without  success. 


168 


THE  WET  CAMP. 


The  reasons  they  gave  for  preferring  to  go  back  to 
their  tribe,  rather  than  repairing  with  us  to  hunt  the 
bison  on  the  Big  Prairie,  and  get  presents  of  tobacco, 
blankets,  and  vermiHon,  were  sensible  enough.  They 
said  if  they  did  not  return  to  their  comrades,  they 
would  be  forthwith  supposed  dead ;  their  relations  would 
then  shave  their  heads  ;  their  squaws  would  remarry, 
the  chiefs  take  possession  of  their  gear,  and  all  that 
would  be  a  great  misfortune.  To  this  we  had  nothing 
to  say ;  but  gave  them  some  tobacco,  shook  hands, 
grunted  our  adieu  in  Indian  fashion,  and  saw  them  no 
more.  They  had  directed  us  to  bend  our  course  more 
to  the  S.  S.  W.  and  to  gain  the  source  of  the  creek 
called  the  Grand  Bayou,  a  tributary  of  the  Great 
Canadian,  which  we  did  ;  and  encamped  early  in  a 
very  low,  damp  piece  of  ground,  just  contriving  to  get 
our  tent  up,  and  our  accoutrements  under  shelter,  be- 
fore the  heavy  rain  which  had  long  threatened,  set  in. 
Every  thing  seemed  to  bode  a  long  continuance  of  it. 
The  season  had  hitherto  been  most  genial.  It  was  at 
once  decided  by  our  chiefs  to  remain  in  our  present 
position  both  this  and  the  following  day  ;  to  rest  the 
horses,  to  send  out  scouts  and  hunters,  and  to  arrange 
the  plans  of  the  party  for  the  return.  To  that  we  were 
now  imperatively  urged  to  turn  our  thoughts.  The 
horses  wanted  food  more  than  rest ;  the  pea-vine  was 
dead  ;  grass  scarce,  and  likely  to  be  more  so,  as  we 
knew  that  the  prairies  were  on  fire  between  us  and  the 
garrison.  As  to  pushing  across  the  Great  Canadian 
to  the  Red  River,  that  was  utterly  out  of  the  question. 

It  was  supposed  that  we  could  not  now  be  far  from 
the  former  stream,  and  we  confidently  hoped  that  on 
the  Big  Prairie,  on  its  northern  bank,  we  should  be 
enabled  to  lay  in  provisions  for  the  return. 

The  evening  and  night  of  this  first  wet  day,  long  as 
they  were,  were  soon  over ;  the  former  by  din  of  hard 
eating  and  conversation  within  the  shelter  of  our  tent ; 
and  the  latter  by  twelve  hours'  unbroken  sleep,  such 
as  even  a  raccoon  might  have  envied. 


THE  WET  CAMP. 


169 


In  the  course  of  the  evening  we  were  vastly  enter- 
tained by  a  visit  from  old  Sawyer,  who,  by  reason  of 
his  age,  his  willingness  to  give  a  helping  hand  to  our 
half-breeds  when  needed,  and  the  originality  of  his 
character,  was  licensed  beyond  his  fellows. 

The  Rangers,  as  was  natural,  began  to  look  to  their 
officers  for  a  decided  change  of  plan,  as  their  own  com- 
mon sense  showed  the  impracticability  of  our  proceed- 
ing much  deeper  into  the  country  in  the  present  ad- 
vanced state  of  the  season  ;  and  Sawyer  was  as  usual 
pushed  forward  to  sound  the  intentions  of  the  Commis- 
sioner. Like  most  inordinately  inquisitive  people,  he 
thought  his  best  way  was  to  be  very  open-hearted  and 
communicative  himself,  and  thereby  to  win  us  over  to 
his  own  humour.  He  accordingly,  without  provocation, 
gave  us  the  history  of  his  wiiole  life  and  former  adven- 
tures: — how  he  had,  after  sowing  his  wild  oats,  been 
incited  to  turn  a  methodist,  and  remained  such  some 
time,  till  seeing,  as  he  expressed  it,  'the  error  of  his 
wa}^,'  lie  had  become  shaking  quaker,  and  so  forth.  The 
first  change  was  assuredly  better  than  the  second.  I 
am  obliged  to  say,  however,  that  all  this  ^penditure  of 
confidence  elicited  no  sympathetic  disclosures  from  our 
quiet  friend  the  Commissioner,  and  Sawyer  at  length 
made  a  retreat  to  announce  his  discomfiture  to  his 
comrades. 

The  following  day  we  opened  our  eyes  and  senses 
to  the  disagreeable  certainty  that  we  were  to  have  yet 
another  day  of  unceasing  rain  ;  and  I  assure  you  it 
was  quite  long  enough,  and  dreary  beyond  any  thing 
we  had  yet  experienced. 

Both  Tonish  and  Beatte  were  sent  out  at  an  early 
hour  in  one  direction,  to  reconnoitre  the  country,  and 
to  get  provisions  ;  and  the  Captain  with  a  comrade  set 
out  in  another  with  the  same  purposes. 

As  hour  stole  lazily  after  hour,  the  Camp  became 
more  and  more  comfortless.  To  stir  out  of  the  tent 
was  to  get  both  wet  and  covered  with  mud.  The  fires 
burned  without  cheerfulness.  The  rivulet  at  our  side 
became  a  turbid  yellow  torrent.    The  Rangers  lay 

VOL.  1.  15 


170 


THE  WET  CAMP. 


swopping  under  their  blanket  awnings,  Imitating,  m 
the  intervals,  to  divert  ennui,  the  cry  of  the  birds  of  the 
forest,  the  hooting  of  the  owl,  or  the  gobble  of  the  tur- 
key. Now  and  then  a  hasty  stroke  of  the  axe  was 
heard,  as  one  or  other  of  their  number  stole  out  to  get 
fresh  fuel.  The  poor  horses,  instead  of  ranging  far  and 
wide  from  tlie  Camp,  as  at  an  earlier  part  of  the  jour- 
ney, with  bells  tinkling  merrily  as  they  tore  down  the 
succulent  pea-vine^  now  drew  near  the  fires,  and  stood 
nibbling  and  gnawing  the  bark  of  the  trees.  There 
was  my  poor  Sorrel,  with  a  clouded  yellow  eye,  and  a 
show  of  sharp  ribs,  suffering  from  a  pleurisy — the  very 
picture  of  misery  ! 

As  to  the  inhabitants  of  our  tent,- — we  lay  watching 
the  preparations  for  breakfast  like  so  many  cats,  and 
when  ready,  devoured  it  like  so  many  tigers.  Pour- 
tales  was  unwell,  having  indulged  largely  in  the  luxu- 
ries of  persimmons,  sloes,  skunks,  and  sour  grapes,  and 
refused  both  medicine  and  comfort.  In  the  intervals  of 
conversation^  the  Commisioner  sat  the  very  image  of 
patience,  and  gave  himself  up  to  speculation.  Mr.  Ir~ 
ving  dozed  by«fits  and  starts,  or  perused  the  only  volume 
of  which  our  camp  library  was  composed  ;  and  between 
whiles,  peeped  out  from  the  folds  of  the  tent  upon  the 
groups  around,,  scanning  the  individuals  composing 
them  with  his  own  good-natured  and  humoursome  eye^. 

As  to  your  capricious  correspondent,  what  between 
the  use  of  pen  and  pencil,  and  to  other  modes  of  tem- 
porary occupation,  the  mornlug  stole  away  quicker  than 
could  have  been  expected.  I  then,  out  of  pure  idleness^ 
engaged  in  the  praiseworthy  operation  of  inquiry  into 
the  disposition  of '  Uncle  Sam,'  as,  after  doing  wonders 
these  latter  days, — wounding  a  dying  bison,  killing  a 
turkey  and  a  skunk,  he  was  again  reported  on  the  sick 
list.  And  no  wonder.  By  an  overthrow  he  had  been 
filled  up  to  the  very  muzzle  with  mud  ;  and  after  a  good 
hour's  work,  1  succeeded  in  extracting  three  inches  of 
ramrod,  and  made  him  disgorge  another  load  of  ball^ 
buck-shot,  and  wet  powder. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remark  that  the  lateness  of 


Tl^he  wet  camp. 


171 


tlie  season,  as  well  as  our  present  mode  of  travelling", 
precluded  my  adding  to  those  collections  of  plants  and 
insects,  which  I  had  commenced  at  an  earlier  period, 
and  found  a  source  of  so  much  interest  and  amusement. 
The  only  prizes  now  within  my  reach,  were  seeds,  for 
the  reception  of  which  I  kept  a  bag  at  my  saddle  bow  ; 
and  crammed  into  it  pell-mell  all  that  can^e  in  my  way, 
from  those  of  the  largest  tree  to  that  of  the  meanest 
grass. 

As  to  insects,  all  now  were  mute :  even  the  grass- 
liopper  chirped  no  more, — the  loquacious  catydid  had 
sung  his  last  song, — the  wood-bug  was  dead  or  asleep, 
and  there  w^as  not  even  a  musquito  to  sound  his  small 
horn  in  our  sleepy  ears. 

Towards  night-fall,  the  various  scouts  came  drop- 
in  g  in,  and  at  length  Beatte  and  Tonish,  loaded  with 
real  bison  meat,  of  the  superexcellence  of  which  we 
had  hitherto  heard  much,  but  had  so  far  withheld  our 
opinion  ;  for  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  the  old 
pursy  bull-beef,  which  Tonish  had  served  up  to  us, 
was  the  best  specimen,  nor  that  we  should  sing  the 
praises  of  the  meat  w^iich  we  cou'd  not  masticate.  But 
here  we  had  the  choice  pieces,  the  hump  and  ribs  of  the 
fattest  cows ; — and  into  the  bargain  a  hunter's  tale  of 
their  having  seen  the  Big  Prairie,  which,  it  appeared, 
was  close  at  hand,  covered  with  herds  of  thousands 
and  thousands  of  bison  and  wild  horses^ 

'  Ah  !  qu-qu-qu-que  des  bceitfs  saucages  I  Ah  !  qu'^ 
qu-qu-vous  verrez  demain P  screamed  the  delighted  To- 
nish, as  sharpening  a  stick  for  a  spit,  he  set  inconti- 
nently about  preparing  supper. 

Had  our  pleasures  not  been  consulted,  necessity 
would  have  obliged  us  to  break  out  from  our  cover 
the  following  morning,  and  move  in  search  of  another 
camp;  as  by  this  time  the  low  jungle,  in  which  the 
whole  parly  had  been  lying,  soaked  with  rain  for  the 
last  forty  hours,  had  become  a  perfect  Slough  of  Des- 
pond, and  not  a  blade  of  grass  was  left. 

We  therefore  merrily  took  our  departure,  and  defiled 
with  our  draggled  train  over  the  turbid  stream,  and  up 


172 


THE  BIG  PRAIRIE. 


towards  the  higher  country  and  the  Big  Prairie  to  the 
southward. 

I  promised  you  a  sketch  of  a  bison  chase,  and  you 
shall  now  have  one.  I  could  not  choose  for  descrip- 
tion, the  attack  made  by  nearly  the  whole  troop,  upon 
seven  old  bulls,  reposing  peaceably  in  a  swamp,  at 
which,  being  a  mile  or  two  in  their  rear  on  the  trail  of 
a  bear,  I  was  not  present : — nor  even  that  on  the  banks 
of  the  North  Fork,  when,  becoming  entangled  in  a  rout 
of  wild  horses,  the  objects  of  our  greatest  ambition  got 
to  covert,  before  any  of  the  amateurs  could  fire  a  shot ; 
but  our  hunt  on  the  Big  Prairie  aforesaid,  when  we 
fairly  overtook  the  rearguard  of  the  migratory  herd, 
afi'ords  me  the  desired  opportunity. 

It  was  about  noon,  (Oct.  29th,)  when,  at  the  head 
of  the  line,  we  got  out  of  the  wood,,  and  saw  before  us 
the  free  and  wide  liorizon  of  the  prairie.  A  long  day's 
journey  was  not  in  contemplation,  as  our  main  object 
was  now  to  hunt  and  cure  sufficient  beef  to  support  us 
on  our  return  through  a  gameless  country  towards  the 
Fort ;  and  it  was  resolved  to  halt  upon  the  first  favoura- 
ble spot  upon  the  banks  of  one  of  the  many  tributary 
creeks  of  the  Grand  B?iyou,  arising  on  the  Prairie,  and 
flowing  north,  and  there  to  pitch  camp. 

Consequently,  after  an  hour's  advance,  the  Commis- 
sioner, Washington  Irving,  Pourtales,  and  myself,  ac- 
companied by  Beatte,  agreed  to  draw  off' from  the  main 
body  towards  the  Great  Canadian,  with  a  general  idea 
of  the  quarter  in  which  we  should  eventually  find  our 
companions  and  their  camp.  ^ 

We  had  not  ridden  many  miles  before  we  discovered 
divers  groups  of  bison  and  wild  horses,  scattered  at  a 
greater  or  less  distance  over  the  wide  undulating  sur- 
face of  the  country.  Beatte  proposed  that  we  should 
halt,  while  he  attempted  to  noose  a  horse  out  of  a  group 
about  two  mWes  to  the  westward  of  us ;  and  on  the  in- 
stant, laying  his  rifle  across  the  saddle  of  the  Commisr* 
sioner's  horse,  he  dashed  off*  at  a  wild  gallop,  and  soon 
neared  the  herd  ;  when,  after  appearing  and  disappear- 
ing alternately  in  mad  career,  as  they  fled  over  the  bro- 


THE  BISON  CHASE.  173 

ken  surface,  both  the  pursuer  and  the  pursued  were 
finally  lost  sight  of.  We  had  m  anwhile  been  moving 
quietly  forward  on  his  trail,  when,  coming  to  one  of 
the  hollows,  filled  with  low  bushes,  frequent  on  the 
edges  of  the  prairie,  two  old  bison  bulls  issued  from 
their  covert  and  began  to  run  up  the  opposite  rise. 
This  was  too  great  a  temptation  for  Washington  Irving 
and  Pourtales,  who  were  a  hundred  feet  in  advance ; 
and  both,  afier  a  moment's  hesitation,  gallopped  after 
them.  My  position  was  one  of  the  most  unenviable 
constraint,  as  though  burning  with  desire  to  follow,  I 
was  withheld  by  a  feeling  of  respect  for  the  Commis- 
sioner, by  whose  side  I  was  riding,  and  who,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  was  no  hunter,  appeared  burdened  with 
Beatte's  rifle  in  addition  to  '  Uncle  Sam.'  However, 
seeing  my  comrades  disappear,  my  impatience  got  the 
better  of  my  sense  of  decorum,  and  begging  ten  thou- 
sand pardons,  1  set  spurs  to  my  horse  and  dashed  after 
them.  I  remember  comforting  myself  with  the  hope 
that  Beatte  would  return  to  him  in  a  few  minutes  ; — • 
but,  however  excusable,  liad  any  harm  come  to  our 
worthy  friend  in  consequence  of  my  desertion,  I  should 
never  have  forgiven  myself. 

In  narrating  the  events  of  a  battle  or  a  hunt,  every 
man  is,  to  a  certain  degree,  of  necessit}^  an  egotist,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  he  knows  perfectly  well  his  own 
resolves  and  the  part  which  he  pla\s,  and  next  to  noth- 
ing about  those  of  his  comrades.  So  I  must  make  the 
narrative  of  my  own  feelings  and  movements,  the  thread 
w  hereon  to  weave  a  notice  of  those  of  others. 

A  scamper  of  a  mile  over  the  broken  surface  of  the 
plain  brought  me  in  contact  with  one  of  the  bulls  just 
mentioned,  which  had  seemingly  escaped  pursuit  by  a 
sidelong  course.  It  appeared  probable  that  neither  of 
my  companio\is  had  as  yet  ventured  near  enough  to 
take  effectual  aim ;  for  though  this  powerful  and  terri- 
ble animal  will  put  forth  all  his  strength  to  escape  the 
pursuit  of  man,  yet,  if  brought  to  bay,  or  approached 
too  near,  he  is  greatly  to  be  dreaded  in  the  moment  of 
savage  ire  and  desperation  ;  and  if  great  caution  be  nc^ 

15* 


174 


THE  BISON  CHASE. 


used,  by  horse  and  rider,  one  or  both  may  fall  victims 
to  their  temerity,  unskilfuhiess,  or  folly. 

1  am  far,  however,  from  wishing  to  magnify  my  cou- 
rage above  theirs — for  to  tell  the  honest  truth,  though 
my  horse  was  both  strong  and  generous,  1  had  received 
many  warnings  about  tlie  possibility  of  his  taking  fright 
— as  he  had  never  before  hunted  the  bison  ;  and  be- 
sides this  reason  for  caution,  there  was  something  in 
the  immense  shaggy  head,  mane,  and  beard  of  my  game 
— the  deep  eye  that  gleamed  like  a  coal  of  fire  from  be- 
neath the  curls,  and  his  unwieldy  bulk,  that  made  me 
rein  in,  and  rather  follow  than  hunt  him  ; — nay,  as 
often  as,  shambling  on,  he  turned  his  head  and  glanced 
revengefully  on  me,  1  thought  it  might  be  more  conve- 
venient  to  be  off,  lest  he  might  take  it  into  that  capa- 
cious head  of  his  to  hunt  me.  However,  my  blood  was 
excited  and  I  followed  him,  to  watch  the  effect  on  the 
horse,  who  in  fact  showed  that  he  entered  into  the  chase 
with  all  his  heart;  till  tne  oison  tumbled  head  over  heels 
into  a  deep,  red,  muddy  creek,  and  waddled  through  ; 
w^hen  I  thought  I  might  leave  him  without  compromis- 
ing my  valour^  comforting  myself  with  the  reflection,  that 
after  all  done  and  said,  bull-beef  was  very  far  from  be- 
ing palatable. 

A  second  chase,  which  Pourtales  and  myself  at  first 
sustained  in  company,  with  laudable  perseverance,  in  a 
hard  run  of  some  miles,  ended  alike  unsuccessfully  to  both 
of  us.  The  herd  of  nine  bulls  which  we  had  followed,  split 
into  several  small  bands.  My  companion  pursued  those 
on  the  right,  and  I  continued  to  gallop  after  a  single  bison 
which  I  had  selected  as  the  object  of  my  attack.  After 
a  headlong  chase  up  one  swell  and  down  anoiher,  over 
broken  ground,  and  through  hollows  filled  with  wa- 
ter, and  deep  red  clay,  into  which  m}^  unwieldy  quar- 
ry precipitately  plunged  with  such  unhesitating  good- 
will, that  I  could  not  but  imitate  his  example,  however 
little  I  should  have  fancied  it  at  another  moment, — he 
led  me  into  a  deep  marsh,  where,  spent  and  breathless, 
he  was  brought  to  bay,  and  turned  upon  me.  Here  we 
bothered  one  another  a  good  deal  by  our  several  ma- 


THE  BISON  CHASE. 


175 


iioeuvres  for  attack  and  defence,  and  though  I  did  my 
best  to  kill  him,  I  failed  to  do  so.  Two  of  my  balls 
had  struck  him  on  the  hind-quarters  as  he  ran,  but 
seemed  only  to  act  as  a  spur,  for  he  merely  gave  his 
tail  a  flourish,  glanced  round  at  me,  and  scampered  on. 
Unless  you  strike  the  animal  at  a  given  spot,  below  the 
hump  and  behind  tlie  shoulder,  or  on  the  spine,  such 
is  the  toughness  of  the  skin  and  the  elasticity  of  the  mus- 
cles, that  the  ball  seems  to  be  thrown  away  ;  and  so  all 
mine  appeared  to  be.  I  was  annoyed  with  my  non- 
success  thus  far,  and  with  the  idea  of  the  clumsy  piece 
of  butchery  I  was  attempting;  and  in  fine,  extricating 
myself  from  the  marsh,  left  him  to  his  fate.  Some  time 
elapsed  before  1  rejoined  my  two  comrades,  who  had 
both  hitherto  been  unsuccessful.  Beatte  had  also  re- 
turned from  a  fruitless  chase.  He  liad  noosed  a  horse, 
but  in  some  of  the  subsequent  evolutions  necessary  to 
secure  his  prize,  he  had  lost  his  hold  on  the  lasso,  and 
the  animal  gallopped  off.  At  a  later  hour,  we  found 
he  had  been  again  in  pursuit  for  the  recovery  of  the 
lasso,  wliich  he  had  achieved,  l)Ut  at  tlie  expense  of  the 
poor  animal's  life.  In  attempting  to  'crease'  the  ani- 
mal, that  is,  to  touch  it  with  a  ball  on  the  back  of  the 
neck,  which  stuns  it  without  materially  injuring  it,  he 
did  what  many  a  hunter  does  in  attempting  that  deli- 
cate operation — he  shot  it  dead. 

To  follow  the  Commissioner  v^^as  now  his  business  ; 
but,  finding  that  we  were  bent  on  retrieving  our  for- 
tunes, he  directed  our  attention  to  a  far  more  numerous 
herd  of  bison  than  we  had  yet  seen.  They  were  at  such 
a  distance  on  the  prairie  that  they  looked  like  a  dotted 
line  under  the  horizon  ;  but  nevertheless  we  determined 
to  go  in  chase.  We  frequently  laughed  at  a  later  day 
when  we  recalled  the  boyish  eagerness  and  thirst  for 
blood  which  certainly  possessed  the  soberest  and  most 
peaceful  amongst  us  as  long  as  we  were  within  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  bison.  To  many,  this  would  be  unaccoun- 
table,— but  all  such  1  invite  to  a  month's  sojourn  in  the 
western  wilderness,  and  an  excursion  into  the  Buffalo- 
range. 


176 


THE  BISON  CHASE. 


It  must  be  recollected  that  none  of  us  had  been  at 
the  camp,  and  we  had  but  a  general  idea  of  the  posi^ 
lion  and  course  of  the  creek  upon  which  it  was  in  all 
probability  to  be  found.  We  knew  that  it  had  been  the 
intention  of  our  companions  to  pilch  it  upon  one  of  the 
streams  rising  on  the  Prairie,  and  running  to  the  north- 
ward, while  the  Great  Canadian  lay  about  eight  miles 
to  tfie  south  of  us.  Fixing  upon  certain  land-marks, 
and  especially  upon  the  particular  aspect  of  the  stream, 
by  following  which  we  hoped  to  come  to  our  night- 
quarters,  we  turned  our  faces  to  the  opposite  point  of 
the  compass,  and  agreed  to  get  if  possible  to  the  south 
of  the  herd,  before  we  approached  them,  so  that  the 
probable  direction  of  our  chase  to  the  norih  might  bring 
us  nearer  to  the  camp,  wherever  it  might  be,  rather  than 
remove  us  from  it.  After  a  ride  of  some  miles,  we  found 
ourselves  in  near  proximity  to  the  herd,  and  almost  in 
the  desired  position,  when  two  bulls  at  a  distance  from 
the  rest  took  ihe  alarm,  and  beginning  to  run,  the  whole 
body,  which  might  consist  of  fifty  head,  got  wind  of  us, 
and  began  to  put  themselves  in  motion. 

The  bison-bull  has  a  most  ludicrous  movement  in 
gallopping,  owing  to  the  great  disproportion  of  the  head 
and  shoulders  compared  with  the  hind-quarters,  but  for 
all  that  he  shuffles  on  at  a  considerable  pace.  The  cow 
is  much  fleeter,  and  a  horse  must  gallop  well  that  keeps 
steadily  up  with  her.  The  latter  are  generally  killed 
for  their  meat.  But  to  my  tale.  We  had  a  fine  dash- 
ing run  of  a  mile  before  we  neared  them.  It  was  my 
fortune  to  take  the  first  chance  for  a  shot,  as,  spurring 
my  horse  past  an  old  overgrown  bull  panting  in  the 
rear,  I  approached  the  centre  of  the  herd,  and  came 
within  a  proper  distance  of  an  animal,  bringing  it  to 
the  ground  by  a  ball  which  broke  the  spine.  There  is 
no  necessity  for  me  to  determine  exactly  how  far  my 
good  fortune  preponderated  over  my  skill ;  as  I  agree, 
that  to  aim  with  precision  at  a  time  when  both  you  and 
your  quarry  are  gallopping  for  your  lives  is  not  the 
easiest  matter ;  however,  as  I  obtained  a  certain  degree 
of  credit  in  the  west,  for  having  killed  a  bison  in  true 


THE  BISON  CHASE. 


irr 


Indian  style,  1  wish  to  keep  the  same  with  you.  My 
comrades  were  brouglit  to  a  momentary  halt  at  the  fall 
of  the  animal,  but  recollecting  themselves,  spurred  for* 
ward  after  the  flying  troopo  A  mile  further,  Mr.  Ir- 
ving had  his  short-lived  hunting  mania  satisfied,  as  a 
ball  from  his  gun  brought  down  a  second  of  the  herd  ; 
and  halting  as  was  natural  by  his  game,  Pourtales  was 
then  left  alone  in  chase,  which  he  continued  with  un- 
daunted perseverance* 

I  had  alighted  to  despatch  the  first,  and  to  possess 
myself  of  the  usual  trophies,  the  principal  of  which  is 
the  tongue.  To  the  trample  and  rush  of  the  chase,  a 
dead  silence  had  succeeded,  and  I  was  occupied  in  my 
labours,  when  a  slight  yelp  drew  my  attention,  and,  rais- 
ing my  eyes,  I  saw  at  a  few  hundred  feet  distance,  the 
head  of  a  grey  wolf  pushed  cautiously  upwards  through 
the  grass.  This  apparition  was  followed  in  the  course 
of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  by  as  many  as  half  a  dozen  of 
a  similar  character,  appearing,  as  though  by  magic,  on 
the  verge  of  a  circle  which  they  formed  around  me  ;  till, 
having  secured  my  trophy,  and  being  convinced  that 
assistance  from  the  camp  was  out  of  the  question,  and 
that  I  must  leave  my  prey  where  it  had  fallen,  I  rode 
off.  1  then  could  see  them  stealing  forward  cautiously 
to  their  meal.  The  hunter  is  the  wolf's  and  vulture's 
provider  on  these  great  plains;  and  they  know  it,  and 
follow  his  trail  on  the  Buflfalo-range,  with  the  certainty 
of  having  their  share  of  the  spoil. 

After  rejoining  Mr.  Irving,  whom  I  found  standing 
sentinel  over  his  spoil,  we  did  not  immediately  recol- 
lect that  the  early  twilight  of  a  dull  autumnal  day  was 
drawing  on,  and  that  we  had  still  to  find  our  way  to 
the  camp.  But  where  was  Pourtales  ?  Before  us  were 
the  deeply  indented  tracks  of  the  herd,  but  they  and 
their  solitary  pursuer  had  long  ago  vanished  over  the 
remotest  swell  of  the  horizon.  We  waited  and  waited, 
and  conjectured,  till  we  dared  wait  no  longer;  and  then, 
haying  looked  carefully  around  us,  and  recognised  some 
of  our  land-marks,  we  began  to  move  slowly  north- 
ward ;  pausing  often  to  scan  the  horizon,  and  ascend- 


178 


The  bison  chase. 


ing  each  elevation  to  look  out  for  the  two  objects  of 
interest,  our  camp  and  our  young  friend. 

We  did  not  find  the  former  without  very  considera- 
ble difficulty,  about  seven  miles  from  the  place  where 
our  bison  had  fallen,  and  that  long  after  the  twilight 
had  deepened  into  night.  Here  we  found  the  Commis- 
sioner safe  and  sound  ;  but,  contrary  to  our  firm  expec- 
tation, Pourtales  was  absent,  and  had  neither  been  heard 
nor  seen  by  an}^  of  the  hunting  parties.  The  bugle  was 
sounded  again  and  again,  guns  fired  from  time  to  time, 
and  larger  fires  than  ordinary  kept  up,  all  without  suc- 
cess ;  till  tired  with  conjecture,  and  knowing  that  no 
effort  of  ours  could  avail  anything  till  day-light,  we 
were  constrained  to  give  up  all  hopes  of  seeing  him  for 
that  night. 

The  day's  hunt  had  been  successful  on  every  hand^ 
and  including  our  own  spoil,  we  counted  ten  or  eleven 
bison  killed.  Abundance  of  meat  had  been  brought 
into  camp, — sufficient,  indeed,  to  last  the  whole  com- 
pany for  a  month  if  properly  cured  and  stored, — and 
lapon  the  Prairie  lay  remaining  masses  over  which  the 
wolves  were  holding  their  stormy  jubilee.  One  or  two 
of  the  huge  animals  had  been  killed  within  half  a  mile 
of  the  camp,  and  a  large  number  of  these  depredators 
seemed  to  have  been  congregated  to  the  feast.  Such  a 
hubbub  of  detestable  sounds  as  filled  our  ears,  that  and 
the  following  night,  I  think  I  never  heard.  It  was  now 
a  faint  melancholy  sound;  and  then  the  whole  pack 
would  break  out  into  full  cry.  You  could  distinguish 
the  ^harp  yell  of  the  prairie-wolf  rising  over  the  long- 
continued  howl  of  the  large  grey  species,  as  they  fed, 
and  snarled,  and  fought  together  through  the  long  dark 
night.  I  remember  it  well,  for  the  absence  of  my  com- 
panion hung  heav}^  on  me,  and  prevented  much  sleep ; 
and  as  Beatte  and  I  sat  over  the  fire  in  the  dead  of  the 
night,  musing  and  planning  for  the  morrow,  that  me- 
lancholy concert  sounded  dolefully  in  my  ears. 


SEQUEL  TO  THE  BISON  CHASE. 


179 


LETTER  XVI. 

There  were  three  ways  of  accounting  for  the  disap- 
pearance of  my  friend.    The  first,  and  the  most  proba- 
ble was,  that  he  had  pursued  the  herd  without  thought 
or  attention  to  direction  or  distance,  or  the  approach 
of  evening,  and  had  eventually  been  unable  to  find  the 
creek  upon  which  we  lay.    No  one  could  wonder  at 
this,  as  the  commencement  of  one  creek  on  the  upper 
lands  was  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  another,  and 
you  will  recollect  that  none  of  us  had  been  at  the  camp 
previous  to  the  chase.    The  second  surmise  was,  that 
he  had  been  turned  upon  and  gored  by  one  or  other  of 
the  herd  ;  and  the  third,  that  he  had  been  fallen  in  with 
by  some  roving  band  of  Indians.    However,  our  duty 
was  clear,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  day,  a  party  was  in 
readiness  to  go  on  the  scout,  consisting  of  Mr.  Irving 
and  myself,  twelve  of  the  best  Rangers,  and  our  three 
domestics.    The  general  orders  in  camp  were:  that  the 
men  should  employ  themselves  in  drying  sufficient  beef 
to  last  them  for  eight  or  ten  days,  and  that  none  of 
them  should  hunt  to  the  south  or  east,  lest  their  trails 
might  be  an  embarrassment  to  us  in  the  pursuit  of  our 
object.    We  had  no  difficulty  in  leading  our  compa- 
nions to  that  part  of  the  country  which  had  been  the 
scenes  of  our  chase,  as  we  had  fixed  upon  sure  land- 
marks ;  nor  yet  in  putting  them  upon  the  trail, — as 
there  lay  the  bison  over  which  the  wolves  and  vultures 
were  still  quarrelling;  nor  did  we  meet  any  great  in- 
terruption in  following  the  track  of  the  animals  for  a 
few  miles,  as  the  soil  was  soft,  and  it  was  seen  that  the 
marks  of  a  horse's  hoofs  bore  them  faithful  company. 

We  had  proceeded  perhaps  half  an  hour  in  this  man- 
ner to  the  south-east,  when  the  appearance  of  a  number 
of  bison  in  full  gallop,  over  a  distant  swell  of  the  Prai- 
rie, brought  us  to  a  stand. 

'  Qu-qu-qu'il  est  la^^  exclaimed  Tonish,  whose  real 
zeal  and  anxiety  on  this  occasion  made  us  forgive  him 
many  of  his  peccadilloes, — and  so  we  all  thoughtj  when 


180 


SEQUEL  TO  THE  BISON  CHASE. 


a  human  figure  mounted  and  in  full  career  appeared 
swiftly  passing  and  vanishing  in  pursuit.  But  when  a 
second  figure  immediately  followed,  the  general  impres- 
sion with  us  all  was,  that  they  were  Indians,  and  that 
idea  linking  itself  with  the  fate  of  our  companion,  with 
one  impulse  we  setofl^in  a  mad  gallop  across  the  coun- 
try towards  the  point  w^here  they  had  been  seen.  We 
soon  crossed  their  trail ;  became  satisfied  at  once  that 
they  could  not  be  the  Pawnees  at  any  rate,  as  the  hor- 
ses were  evidently  shod  ;  and  after  following  the  track 
a  short  distance,  found  in  a  hollow  two  of  the  rangers, 
who,  by  disobeying  orders,  had  given  us  this  unneces- 
sary panic.  We  had  now  to  detect  the  real  trail  again, 
and  half  an  hour  was  lost  in  doing  it. 

By  following  it  further,  we  shortly  after  came  to  the 
place  where  it  was  evident  that  the  object  of  our  search 
had  given  up  the  chase,  as  the  deeply-indented  hoof- 
marks  of  the  herd  had  wheeled  off  to  the  northward,  and 
the  solitary  footsteps  of  the  hunttT  were  seen  to  diverge 
south.  Now  the  greatest  care  was  necessarj^  and  our 
anxiety  was  proportionably  great.  The  trail  continued 
good,  leading  us  towards  the  Canadian,  till  we  came 
upon  hard  stony  ground,  and  the  country  gradually 
declined  to  the  bed  of  a  creek  running  due  south  to- 
wards the  river.  For  an  hour  longer  the  search  con- 
tinued with  increasing  interest  and  anxiety.  Our  com- 
rade seemed  now  to  have  wandered  to  and  fro  on  the 
swell,  and  then  down  in  the  hollow  among  the  thickets. 
We  could  almost  divine  the  thoughts  of  the  rider  from 
the  appearance  of  the  trail.  Here  he  was  undecided, 
and  stood  to  look  around  him  ;  and  there  got  a  bright 
idea,  and  trotted  briskly  on.  Sometimes  the  marks 
were  altogether  lost  from  the  nature  of  the  ground;  and 
then  our  lynx-eyed  half-breeds  would  find  it  again,  by 
the  mere  depression  of  a  blade  of  grass,  or  a  small  peb- 
ble uprooted  from  the  soil,  or  a  scratch  upon  the  stones. 

We  had  seen  game  enough  during  the  morning, — 
bison,  horses,  antelopes,  and  deer;  but  having  a  supe- 
rior chase  in  view,  had  passed  them  all  by.  However, 
about  noon,  a  herd  of  deer,  led  by  a  noble  buck,  rose 


SEQUEL  TO  THE  BISON  CHASE.  181 


SO  near  us,  that  Beatte  could  not  withhold  a  shot.  The 
report  of  his  piece  was  followed  by  a  distant  halloo. — 
No  object  appearing  in  sight,  each  spurred  his  horse 
in  the  direction  from  which  the  sound  came  to  his  ears, 
and  an  instant  after  we  saw  our  lost  comrade  galloping 
towards  us ;  I  need  not  tell  you  that  the  meeting  was 
a  joyous  one,  and  that  none  could  feel  it  in  a  greater 
degree  than  myself. 

His  tale  was  a  simple  and  straight-forward  one.  The 
fall  of  the  second  bison  had  given  him  the  spur,  and  he 
followed  the  herd,  and  bombarded  them  till  he  had  no 
ammunition  left.  He  then  began  to  think  of  rejoining 
us,  or  at  least  of  finding  the  camp.  As  had  been  sur- 
mised, he  had  been  deceived  by  the  similarity  of  the 
different  creeks,  and  had  taken  one  leading  to  the  wrong 
point  of  the  compass.  Night  came  on  ;  he  became 
convinced  he  was  lost,  and,  after  divers  wanderings  to 
and  fro  on  the  broken  ground,  in  the  bushes  about  the 
hollow,  and  in  the  creek,  he  wisely  resolved  not  to  add 
to  his  own  fatigue,  and  to  our  difficulties  in  trailing  him, 
by  further  struggles.  He  therefore  fixed  upon  a  large 
tree  within  sight  of  the  place  where  we  eventually  met, 
dismounted,  tied  the  forelegs  of  his  horse  together  with 
a  handkerchief,  and  let  him  go  loose  to  shift  for  himself. 
A  fire  he  could  not  make,  so  he  climbed  up  with  the 
saddle  into  a  commodious  fork  of  the  tree,  succeeded 
in  making  himself  a  safe  and  easy  seat,  and,  in  spite  of 
appetite,  cold,  and  a  serenade  of  wolves,  contrived,  by 
his  own  account,  to  get  ten  hours'  sound  sleep.  The 
early  hours  of  this  day  had  been  passed  in  comparative 
tranquillity  of  mind,  as  he  never  doubted  but  we  should 
be  on  his  trail,  and  therefore  did  not  move  to  any  great 
distance  from  his  night  quarters.  As  noon  approached, 
and  he  had  seen  nothing  of  us,  I  believe  some  anxiety 
began  to  creep  into  his  mind,  when  the  shot  was  heard, 
and  his  rescue  from  his  hungry  and  anxious  position 
followed  as  related.  He  deserved  and  got  great  credit 
for  his  good  sense  and  philosophy. 

Our  return  to  the  camp  was  a  matter  of  course.  The 
Grand  Canadian  lay  about  three  miles  south,  and  some 

VOL.  I.  16 


182 


PRAIRIE  BOGS. 


of  US  made  a  circuit  in  returning  towards  its  banks.  It 
is  a  powerful  stream,  and  by  far  the  longest  tributary 
of  the  Arkansas.  At  this  point  it  is  surrounded  on  both 
sides  by  open  prairies,  and  bounded  by  high  sand-hills, 
from  the  top  of  which  a  large  extent  of  its  valley  was 
to  be  seen,  with  groups  of  bison  and  wild  horses  scat- 
tered over  it.  This  part  of  the  country,  as  you  will 
have  gathered,  still  abounds  in  game.  A  small  group 
of  goats  or  antelopes  was  pointed  out  to  me,  but  1  was 
unable  to  approach  them  to  give  their  figure  or  appear- 
ance with  any  distinctness.  Large  flights  of  starlings 
were  everywhere  seen,  and  numerous  bands  of  snow- 
white  cranes. 

But,  as  an  object  of  natural  history,  nothing  diverted 
us  more  than  a  part  of  the  smooth  prairies  near  our 
camp,  where,  for  the  space  of  many  acres,  the  surface 
"was  marked  by  the  mounds  raised  by  a  strange  little 
animal,  vulgarly  and  absurdly  called  the  prairie-dog.* 
They  are  a  species  of  marmot,  of  small  size,  rarely  mea- 
suring more  than  fifteen  or  twenty  inches  from  the  top 
of  their  nose  to  the  extremity  of  the  tail,  with  a  large 
head,  short  ears,  and  longish  body.  Like  the  beaver, 
they  appear  to  be  republicans,  living  in  large  commu- 
nities, in  burrows  spread  under  a  wide  extent  of  prairie. 
The  sod  within  their  territories  was  everywhere  w^ell 
shaven  and  dry,  and  had  all  the  appearance  of  being 
well  trodden.  The  opening  to  each  burrow  was  seen 
at  the  top  of  a  little  flattened  mound  of  the  earth, 
removed  in  making  the  necessary  subterraneous  excava- 
tions. In  these  they  are  said  to  live  in  families.  They 
were  very  shy  and  difficult  of  approach  for  a  man  on 
foot,  while,  at  the  same  time,  a  horseman  could  ride  in 
among  them  without  giving  half  the  alarm  ;  which  was 
attributed  to  their  being  accustomed  to  the  presence  of 
the  wild  horses  of  the  prairie. 

It  was  amusing  to  watch  their  sprightly  movements 
from  a  distance,  and  the  cautious  manner  in  which  they 
would,  on  ascending  from  their  burrows,  raise  them- 


*  Arctomys  Ludoviciana. 


RETURN  TO  THE  FORT. 


183 


selves  upon  their  hindlegs  like  a  squirrel,  and  make  a 
long  neck,  to  see  if  the  coast  was  clear.  If  they  noticed 
distant  danger,  they  uttered  a  sharp  and  singular  bark, 
and  never  failed  to  make  good  their  retreat.  I  noticed 
that  they  were  very  apt  to  fall  foul  of  each  other,  and 
squabble  and  wrangle  together  like  some  of  their  re- 
publican neighbours  more  to  the  eastward. 

Their  burrows,  however,  serve  for  places  of  retreat 
to  others  besides  themselves.  The  burrowing-owl,  a 
distinct  species,  is  frequently  found  in  them,  and  the 
rattlesnake  and  badger  also.  Our  friend  Irving  threw 
light  upon  this  singular  fact,  by  shrewdly  surmising  that 
these  strange  gentry  were  probably  the  ambassadors 
and  plenipotentiaries  of  foreign  powers  at  the  seat  of 
the  republic ;  and  I  believe  you  will  hardly  find  a  more 
plausible  one. 

Our  camp  was  that  night  once  more  a  scene  of  good- 
humour,  contentment,  and  joyous  pastime.  Tonish  had 
crowned  the  success  of  the  day,  by  capturing  another 
foal ;  and,  in  the  best  humour  with  himself,  put  forth  all 
his  cu«ning  in  tl>e  preparation  of  sundry  delicacies,  to 
the  enjoyment  of  which  no  one  had  as  good  a  right  as 
PourtaleSj  after  the  preceding  day's  fast  and  redundant 
exercise.  Though  the  barking,  howling,  and  yelping 
of  the  wolves  seemed  to  be  yet  greater  on  this  second 
night  of  their  feast  than  the  preceding,  no  one  com- 
plained of  being  disturbed  by  it. 

The  sun  rose  bright  and  clear  for  the  season  on  the 
following  day  ;  and  shortly  after,  the  turkeys  and  quails, 
whose  call  from  the  edge  of  the  forest  would  have  al- 
lured us  to  go  after  them  at  any  other  period  of  our  tour, 
had  returned  to  covert ;  and  as  the  morning  advanced, 
preparations  were  made  for  a  remove  from  our  resting 
place.  It  was  the  last  day  of  October,  and  we  were 
now  to  set  out  on  our  return  home.  Our  actual  dis- 
tance from  the  fort  was  not  known  ;  and,  in  fact,  we 
found  subsequently  that  we  both  had  farther  to  go,  and 
more  to  go  through,  than  we  expected— in  good  truth, 
that  the  roughest  part  of  our  expedition  was  yet  before 
OS.    I  shall  compress  the  history  of  the  following  eight 


184 


RETURN  TO  THE  FORT. 


days'  uninterrupted  march  to  the  N.  N.  E.  The  great- 
er part  of  the  first  four  we  were  employed  in  breaking 
a  painful  pathway  with  many  a  tear,  scratch,  and  grum- 
ble, through  the  Cross  Timbers.  Before  we  reached 
the  vicinity  of  the  Arkansas  River  we  had  to  recross 
the  Grand  Bayou,  though  much  lower  down  than  be- 
fore,— the  North  Fork,  and  the  Deep  Creek,  which 
seems  to  identify  itself  with  the  Little  North  Fork  of 
the  Canadian.  It  was  by  far  the  most  serious  impedi- 
ment in  our  course,  as  its  great  depth  and  swiftness 
precluded  all  idea  of  fording.  With  a  few  hours'  de- 
lay, however,  this  obstacle  was  also  overcome  ; — the 
horses  were  swam  across,  and  a  temporary  bridge  con- 
trived by  felling  two  gigantic  trees  on  either  side,  in 
such  a  manner,  that  when  they  fell  across  the  stream, 
their  top  branches  interlocked  upon,  and  below  the  sur- 
face ;  so  that  you  might,  with  a  little  care,  scramble 
along  the  trunk,  and  from  the  boughs  of  the  one  into 
the  other. 

Between  the  two  last-mentioned  streams,  we  struck 
upon  a  good  Indian  trail  known  to  Beatte ;  and  two 
days  before  we  actually  arrived  upon  the  Arkansas,  we 
gained  the  edge  of  the  hilly  country,  and  came  to  a 
sudden  break,  whence  we  gained  a  view  of  boundless 
expanse  over  the  half-burned  and  defaced  prairies  for 
forty  or  fifty  miles  towards  the  great  river. 

At  this  time  our  appearance  was  that  of  a  discomfited 
host.  Divers  of  the  horses  were  irrecoverably  lost,  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  rangers  were  on  foot,  their  steeds 
being  unable  to  carry  them.  In  fact,  the  poor  animals 
had  nothing  to  eat ;  the  grass  was  dead  or  burnt,  and 
we  met  with  no  cane  before  we  reached  the  Arkansas. 
Added  to  this,  many  of  the  men,  with  whom  it  was  al- 
ways a  feast  or  a  fast,  had  proved  themselves  improvi- 
dent to  the  last  degree.  Some  had  dried  no  meat  at 
the  Big  Prairie,  trusting  to  find  abundance  for  their 
daily  consumption ;  others  had  even,  as  we  heard, 
thrown  away  their  provisions  the  first  day  of  our  re- 
turn, to  avoid  the  trouble  of  carrying  it^  with  the  same 
false  expectation. 


RETURN  TO  THE  FORT. 


185 


But  the  fact  was,  that  from  the  day  after  we  left  the 
vicinity  of  the  Great  Canadian,  we  saw  no  more  bison, 
turkeys  were  far  from  plentiful,  and  deer  became  ex- 
tremely scarce ;  and  I  believe  that  if  no  absolute  hun- 
ger was  the  consequence,  there  was  sufficient  scarcity 
in  the  camp  to  make  the  general  situation  far  from 
enviable. 

Our  mess  was  also  rather  upon  short  commons,  and 
at  our  last  encampment  in  a  small  forest,  through  which 
a  hurricane  had  passed  and  levelled  many  a  noble  tree, 
about  twenty  miles  from  the  Arkansas,  we  too  con- 
gratulated one  another  that  it  was  our  last.  Our  small 
stock  of  flour,  sugar,  and  salt,  was  all  exhausted ;  the 
bundle  of  ^  solidago  odora^  which  we  had  made  use  of 
as  tea,  had  long  been  expended.  Two  of  our  pack- 
horses,  Old  Gombo  and  his  companion,  had  been  left 
to  their  fate.  Pourtales'  crop,  Mr.  Irving's  generous 
bay,  and  my  own  gallant  hunter,  had  each  in  turn  been 
left  behind  through  sheer  necessity, and  the  horses  which 
still  accompanied  us  were  so  emaciated,  that,  at  last, 
we  could  not  think  of  riding  them.  As  to  our  personal 
appearance,  though  we  all  enjoyed  excellent  health, 
our  wardrobe  had  reached  the  lowest  degree  of  pover- 
ty, and  had  I  patience  to  describe  how  men  of  dignity 
and  worship  like  ourselves  were  attired  in  each  parti- 
cular, I  have  no  doubt  your  surprise  would  be  excited. 
The  commissioner's  dignity  was  completely  shrouded 
in  a  common  soldier's  great-coat  and  pantaloons.  Mr. 
Irving  was  clad  in  a  suit  of  shirt  armour,  or,  to  speak 
plainly,  wore  a  strong  holland  shirt  over  his  surtout ; 
and  one  tail  of  the  latter  had  been  left  in  the  embraces 
of  the  Cross  Timbers.  Certain  of  Pourtales'  integu- 
ments fluttered  in  the  wind ;  and  as  to  myself,  though 
cased  in  buck-skin  from  head  to  foot,  there  were  too 
many  signs  of  wear  and  tear  in  my  vestments  to  allow 
me  any  degree  of  self-congratulation  over  my  fellows. 

The  weather,  too,  had  given  tokens  of  change  and 
of  the  approach  of  the  southern  winter  ;  and  as  we  lay 
round  our  fires  at  night,  we  heard  the  whistling  pinions 
of  innumerable  geese  and  ducks,  winging  their  way 

16* 


186 


RETURN  TO  THE  FORT. 


from  the  north  to  a  more  genial  climate.  The  beauty 
of  the  year  had  indeed  passed  away. 

Thus  the  sight  of  the  first  frontier  *  clearing'  on  the 
Arkansas,  about  six  miles  above  the  Western  Creek 
Agency,  was  cheering  to  both  animals  and  men.  We 
reached  it  about  noon  on  the  10th  of  November.  The 
Rangers  and  their  ofl[icers  resolved  to  proceed  no  far- 
ther, but  commenced  a  fearful  slaughter  among  the 
pigs,  hens,  and  geese,  with  which  they  as  usual  found 
the  log-hut  of  the  backwoodsman  surrounded ;  while 
their  poor  jaded  horses  were  regaled  with  the  first  good 
feed  they  had  had  for  many  a  long  day.  Our  party, 
however,  determined  to  push  on  to  the  Agency — pass- 
ing the  river  in  a  canoe,  and  swimming  our  horses ; 
and  at  sundown  reached  the  Verdigris,  after  exactly  a 
month's  absence,  during  w^hich  we  had  made  a  circuit 
of  about  four  hundred  miles. 

We  were  welcomed  to  the  luxuries  of  maize-bread, 
sugar,  salt,  and  log-huts ;  and  to  as  much  intelligence 
with  regard  to  the  great  world  from  which  we  had 
been  for  a  short  period  so  completely  cut  off,  as  could 
be  afforded  by  those  dwelling  so  far  from  the  scene 
of  important  events. 


LETTER  XVIL 

The  object  of  the  expedition,  as  far  as  it  had  ex- 
tended, had  been  in  one  respect  accomplished,  in  that 
the  character  of  the  country  between  the  two  great 
rivers  had  been  ascertained,  and  found  to  be  such  as 
to  preclude  all  idea  of  settling  the  eastern  Indians  upon 
it.  As  you  may  have  gathered,  with  the  exception  of 
the  rich  alluvial  lands  of  the  Arkansas,  and  a  few  strips 
of  a  like  character  along  the  tributary  streams,  the 
whole  district  we  had  passed  over  was  in  fact  a  desert, 
•with  an  ungrateful  soil  and  stinted  vegetation.  The 


RETURN  TO  THE  FORT. 


187 


rock,  wherever  seen,  appeared  under  the  form  of  a  loose 
friable  sandstone,  loaded  with  iron.  Both  the  soil  and 
the  waters  were  generally  vermilion  in  colour,  and  the 
latter  so  salt,  as  to  be  unpotable  in  time  of  flood.  There 
is  reason  to  believe  that  this  is  the  character  of  the 
country  for  yet  hundreds  of  miles  to  the  westward. 

Divers  proceedings  and  arrangements  followed  our 
return  to  this  outpost  of  civilization.  Our  retainers  were 
dismissed.  Indians  were  sent  after  the  stray  horses, 
and  we  had  the  pleasure  to  see  most  of  them  brought  in 
after  a  few  days'  delay,  and  sent  to  live  in  cane  and 
clover  like  their  fellows.  The  commissioner  and  Mr. 
Irving  repaired  to  the  fort  on  the  Neosho,  six  miles  east 
of  the  agency.  It  forms  an  open  square,  surrounded 
by  a  strong  log-barricade,  on  the  high  bank  of  the  river, 
with  two  block-houses  at  opposite  angles,  and  contains 
the  usual  barracks,  storehouses,  and  officers'  quarters : — 
many  other  buildings,  belonging  to  the  government,  or 
private  adventurers,  lying  under  the  protection  of  its 
guns.  Circumstances  made  Pourtales  and  myself  fix 
our  quarters  on  the  Verdigris,  but  frequent  visits  to  the 
garrison  w^ere  always  a  source  of  pleasure,  from  the 
agreeable  society  we  there  met  with  among  the  officers, 
many  of  whom  had  their  families  with  them.  We 
now  heard  of  the  dire  visit  of  the  cholera  throughout 
the  West,  of  the  great  distress  it  had  caused  on  board 
the  numerous  steamboats,  and  more  especially  of  the 
ravages  made  by  the  simultaneous  appearance  of  both 
this  mysterious  pestilence  and  the  yellow^  fever  at  New- 
Orleans  ;  besides  divers  items  of  intelligence,  domestic, 
foreign,  and  political,  which,  though  old  enough,  were 
all  new  to  us. 

Two  days  after  our  return,  a  small  steamboat  arrived  v 
at  the  fort  with  stores,  and  we  were  sorry  to  see  our 
friend  and  companion,  Washington  Irving,  resolve  to 
take  advantage  of  it  to  commence  his  return  to  the 
East ;  the  more  so,  as  we  were  obliged,  from  divers 
reasons,  to  delay  our  departure  for  a  fortnight. 

The  commissioner,  finding  that  his  two  coadjutors 
had  not  yet  arrived,  took  up  his  quarters  for  the  winter 


188 


TONISH. 


at  the  fort,  together  with  Tonish,  who  was  now  taken 
into  his  particular  service,  as  head  cook,  valet  de  cham- 
bre,  master  of  the  horse,  and  of  course  as  grand  veneur. 
To  aid  him  in  the  latter  capacity,  '  Uncle  Sam'  was 
given  into  his  special  keeping.  The  morning  after  our 
arrival  at  the  Verdigris,  this  veracious  personage  had 
made  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  assemblage  of  log-huts 
aware  of  his  being  in  a  state  of  very  grievous  mental 
or  physical  distress,  by  uttering  the  most  piteous  cries 
and  ejaculations, — calling  to  horse  and  jumping  about 
like  one  distracted,  while  he  vociferously  called  on  his 
comrade  Beatte  for  assistance.  The  words  which  he 
sung  to  this  most  unaccountable  solo  were,  as  far  as  we 
could  understand — ^Ah!  qu-quefai  perdu  ma  viande ! 
malheureux  que  je  suis !  ma  viande  de  bceuf  sauvage  /' 
The  upshot  was,  that  he  professed  to  have  lost  a  small 
parcel  of  dried  bison  meat,  which  he  had  guarded  with 
uncommon  care  during  our  hungry  retreat,  as  an  accept- 
able gift  to  his  two  patrons,  the  colonel  at  the  Agency, 
and  the  commandant  at  Fort  Gibson,  to  both  of  whom 
it  seems  he  had,  in  his  usual  braggart  strain,  made  a 
gratuitous  promise  at  the  moment  of  starting  a  month 
before.  He  was  with  great  difficulty  consoled,  and  pre- 
vented getting  on  horseback  to  ride  back  fifty  or  sixty 
miles  to  seek  it.  His  very  natural  and  very  amiable 
disappointment  was  sympathized  with;  and  having  been 
gradually  reconciled  to  the  unavoidable  and  most  unin- 
tentional failure  of  his  sacred  promise,  the  sorrowful 
Tonish  proceeded  with  an  air  of  painful  resignation 
with  his  master  to  the  fort ;  when  lo  !  on  following  him 
there  the  day  after,  the  truth  comes  out.  All  the  while 
that  Tonish  was  acting  the  tragic  scene  just  described, 
the  meat  in  question  was  to  his  certain  knowledge 
stowed  safely  in  the  centre  of  the  bundle  which  con- 
tained his  worldly  effects,  and  was  safely  braced  on  the 
crupper  of  his  horse.  The  simple  fact  was,  Tonish  had 
eaten  the  greater  part  of  the  intended  gift,  and  knowing 
that  what  remained  would  not  bear  division  between 
his  two  patrons,  he  took  this  mode  of  satisfying  the 


THE  RANGERS. 


189 


colonel  at  the  Verdigris,  while  he  got  the  credit  of 
keeping  his  promise  to  the  colonel  at  the  Neosho. 

I  forget  whether  it  was  precisely  at  this  period  of  our 
intercourse  that  he  got  nfiy  companion  to  indite  a  letter 
for  him  to  his  lonely  partner  in  the  village  of  Florissant, 
every  sentence  of  which  began  in  his  terse  and  charac- 
teristic manner,  thus — ' Dis,  qu-queje  suis  Men!  Que 
fespere  qu^elle  ma  femme  se  porte  bien — que  les  enfans 
se  portent  tous  bien^  et  que  tout  le  monde  se  porte  bien. 
Dis,  que  fen  ai  tue  beaucoup  de  gibier — de  daims,  et 
infiniment  de  bceufs  sauvages  P  SfC,  This  singular  per- 
sonage continued  to  be  a  study  for  me  as  long  as  we 
were  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  has  been  hitherto  de- 
scribed in  the  wilds  as  pert,  noisy,  active,  and  slashing. 
He  now  became  an  altered  man.  He  got  a  fit  of  the 
horribles  and  rheumatism,  both  the  fruits,  as  he  said^ 
of  sleeping  in  a  house.  He  went  about  wrapped  up  in 
an  old  gray  top-coat,  with  the  collar  hoisted  high  over 
his  ears,  and  lost  both  his  appetite  and  spirits.  Even 
his  extraordinary  success  in  shooting  pigeons  and  prai- 
rie-hens with  *  Uncle  Sam,'  seemed  to  have  no  power  to 
nerve  his  tongue,  or  to  re-open  that  mine  of  self-esteem 
and  applause,  which  lay  covered  up  in  some  corner  of 
his  brain.  In  the  midst  of  plenty,  he  was  longing  after 
the  peculiar  dainties  of  the  prairies  ;  and  the  last  trait 
I  have  upon  record  concerning  him  at  this  time,  was, 
his  great  and  exceeding  affection  for  a  skunk  which 
lived  under  the  flooring  of  the  ruinous  log-hut,  where 
he  carried  on  his  culinary  processes.  I  detected  him 
feeding  it  faithfully,  morning,  noon,  and  night ;  explain- 
ing, however,  his  reasons  to  me  aside  for  so  doing,  by 
saying — ^  Qu-qu-quHl  devient  gras  !  alorsje  le  mange  /' 
So  much  for  the  purity  of  Tonish's  affections. 

The  Rangers  went  into  quarters  in  a  rich  and  retired 
nook  of  the  shady  vale  of  the  Neosho,  about  six  miles 
above  the  Fort,  where  they  built  themselves  huts,  and 
had,  doubtless,  during  the,  course  of  the  winter  months, 
time  enough  to  swop  at  their  leisure.  Two  other  com- 
panies, one  commanded  by  a  son  of  Daniel  Boone,  ar- 
rived shortly  after,  and  went  into  similar  quarters  nearer 


190  WESTERN  CREEK  AGENCY. 


the  Fort,  to  be  in  readiness  for  an  expedition,  which  it 
was  proposed  to  send  out  in  far  greater  force  in  the  ear- 
ly spring  towards  the  Red  River  and  the  Pawnee  coun- 
try, so  that  the  Httle  garrison  to  which  they  were  at- 
tached, and  considered  as  out-pensioners,  now  mustered 
eight  hundred  men.  Doubts  were  entertained  by 
many  even  at  that  time,  as  to  this  description  of  troops 
being  of  any  real  utiHty,  or  calculated  to  render  effec- 
tive service  ;  and  these  were  strengthened  by  the  expe- 
rience gained  the  following  year,  with  which  we  subse- 
quently became  acquainted.  The  government  seems 
ultimately  to  have  come  to  the  same  conclusion.  They 
were  disbanded  the  following  summer,  and  a  regiment 
of  dragoons,  subject  to  severe  military  discipline,  orga- 
nized for  the  frontier  service.  Of  their  adventures  I 
know  nothing,  yet  should  be  inclined  to  douE)t  whether 
at  any  season  of  the  year,  or  however  organized,  a  large 
body  of  men  could  maintain  itself  in  the  wide  plains  of 
the  West,  in  the  presence  of  hostile  tribes,  who,  employ- 
ing their  means  of  annoyance  in  continually  harassing 
them,  cutting  off  their  stragglers  and  hunters,  and  steal- 
ing their  horses^  might  reduce  those  to  distress  whom 
they  never  could  or  would  attempt  to  subdue  otherwise. 

The  fortnight  which  I  have  mentioned  as  interven- 
ing between  our  return  to  the  outskirts  of  civilization 
and  our  departure  from  thence,  was  spent  by  each  as 
he  listed.  A  fall  of  snow,  and  two  or  three  days'  cold 
weather,  were  succeeded  by  a  fine  genial  season  of 
comparative  warmth  and  comfort.  We  lived  in  a  log- 
hut  attached  to  the  trading  establishments  of  our  old 
conductor,  the  colonel,  and  there  were  strange  scenes 
and  sights  daily  passing  before  our  eyes  among  the 
concourse  of  Indians  of  various  tribes,  with  whom  this 
was  a  point  of  rendezvous. 

After  the  weather  had  become  pleasant  again,  the 
squirrel,  which  had  disappeared  for  a  while,  and  was 
supposed  to  have  gambolled  to  his  heart's  content,  and 
to  have  slunk  to  the  shelter  of  his  storehouse  in  the 
hollow  branch  for  the  winter,  was  again  heard  and  seen 
amon^  the  dead  leaves  at  the  foot  of  th^  hickory  and 


THE  PRAIRIE  FOWL. 


191 


peccan-trees  :  and  those  countless  bands  of  water-fowl 
and  flights  of  pigeons,  which  had  been  constantly  ob- 
served passing  to  the  southward  during  the  prevalence 
of  the  cold  wind,  ceased  to  attract  the  attention. 

The  prairie-fowls  had  now  completely  thrown  aside 
their  summer  habits.  Instead  of  keeping  apart  in  dis- 
tinct families  scattered  over  a  vast  extent  of  country, 
like  our  own  grouse  at  an  earlier  season,  they  now  ap- 
peared congi  egated  in  immense  flocks  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  farms.  I  had  plenty  of  opportunity  of 
studying  their  habits,  but  to  shoot  a  few  brace,  as  they 
were  extremely  wild,  required  frequently  hours  of  pa- 
tient and  wary  exertion  ;  whereas,  at  an  earlier  season, 
a  sportsman,  if  aided  by  a  dog,  might  bag  any  quan- 
tity, from  the  pertinacity  with  which  they  will  lie  close 
till  forced  to  fly. 

It  appeared  that  at  this  time  of  the  year  all  the  birds 
within  an  area  of  three  or  four  miles  square,  congre- 
gated together  by  consent  at  sundown  on  a  given  spot 
in  the  rank  dry  grass  of  the  unburnt  prairie,  to  sleep. 
Many  a  time  have  I  seen  them  coming  at  sunset  from 
every  point  of  the  compass,  with  their  remarkably 
level  and  even  flight  over  the  swells  of  the  prairie ; 
towards  the  place  of  rendezvous,  which  a  few  days' 
observation  enabled  me  to  determine  upon  within  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  and  twice  I  was  on  the  prairie  early 
enough  to  hear  and  see  them  rise,  and  the  sight  was 
such  as  might  make  an  English  sportsman's  mouth  wa- 
ter. Their  number  must  have  amounted  to  many  thou- 
sands, and  the  sound  of  their  wings  might  be  heard  a 
very  great  distance.  After  rising,  for  about  half  an 
hour,  they  crowd  the  scattered  trees  on  the  edge  of  the 
prairie  by  hundreds  at  a  time,  after  which  they  disperse. 
Their  wariness  at  this  time  is  extreme  ;  and  the  slight- 
est indication  of  the  approach  of  man,  even  at  a  great 
distance,  is  noticed  by  the  cock  ;  who,  perched  on  the 
topmost  twig,  elongates  his  neck,  and  peeps  first  on  one 
side,  and  then  on  another,  with  the  most  provoking 
caution.  How  often  have  I  been  foiled,  when,  after 
the  most  cautious  approach,  either  in  serpent-fashion 


192  WESTERN  CREEK  AGENCY. 


like  the  Indian,  dragging  myself  through  the  grass 
inch  by  inch,  or  in  an  upright  position,  striving  to 
counterfeit  a  tree  stump  ;  never  stirring  till  the  senti- 
nel looked  another  way,  and  then  by  imperceptible  ap- 
proaches, and  five  more  feet  and  five  more  minutes 
would  have  brought  the  tree  within  range, — the  careful 
bird  began  to  grow  more  and  more  doubtful  and  rest- 
less, and  finally  set  up  that  clear  tremulous  crow 
which  said :  *  There's  a  rogue  with  a  gun  almost  within 
shot !'  as  plainly  as  though  he  had  spoken  English.  The 
instant  and  complete  dispersion  of  the  whole  covey  to  a 
great  distance  would  be  the  immediate  consequence. 
The  plumage  of  this  large  species  of  grouse  is  not  so 
bright  as  that  of  our  moor-fowl,  though  composed  of  the 
same  colours ;  yet  it  is  a  beautiful  bird.  While  I  counted 
the  prairie  as  my  hunting  ground,  it  would  have  amused 
you  to  see  my  companion  prowling  round  the  bayous 
and  lakes  nearer  the  Arkansas,  to  get  a  shot  at  the  ducks 
and  geese  which  covered  them  ;  employing,  by-the- 
way,  an  Indian  urchin  to  act  the  water-dog,  and  bring 
them  out  when  killed.  But  this  and  other  equally 
trivial  modes  of  whiling  away  that  time  which  we  were 
constrained  to  stay  here,  soon  brought  satiety ;  and 
we  turned  our  thoughts  with  some  impatience  to  the 
manner  of  our  return  to  civilized  society.  We  had 
been  given  to  understand  that  another  steamboat  would 
probably  ascend  from  the  Mississippi  within  the  fort- 
night, provided  the  state  of  the  weather  and  the  depth 
of  w^ater  in  the  river  permitted  it.  As  this  period  drew 
towards  aclose,however,  the  general  impression  among 
our  acquaintance  was,  that  none  would  dare  to  risk  it. 
The  roads  to  the  southward,  if  roads  they  could  be 
called,  were  pronounced  impassable:  and, as  we  still 
lingered  day  after  day,  in  the  vain  hope  that  the  boat 
might  yet  arrive,  it  began  to  look  a  little  probable, 
that,  having  missed  the  opportunity  of  return  which 
Mr.  Irving  had  embraced,  we  should  have  to  winter  in 
the  log-huts  of  this  distant  settlement.  The  season  was 
now  far  advanced :  but  still  there  was  one  alternative 
left  us,  namely,  a  descent  by  canoe  ;  and  after  much 


THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 


193 


contrivance,  thanks  to  the  hearty  assistance  of  many 
hospit  rjle  acquaintances  at  the  fort  and  the  agency, 
we  got  every  thing  finally  arranged,  and  on  the  23d  of 
November,  repaired  early  to  the  fort  to  take  our 
departure. 

A  good,  sound,  stray  canoe;  about  thirty-four  feet 
long,  and  ihree  wide  in  the  centre,  had  been  picked  up 
by  some  of  the  soldiers.  This  we  purchased,  and  with 
the  concurrence  of  the  officers  at  the  garrison,  made  an 
arrangement  with  two  discharged  soldiers  desirous  of 
going  down  the  river,  to  act  as  our  oarsmen  and  caterers. 

In  the  afternoon  we  bid  adieu  to  Fort  Gibson,  and 
took  our  places  face  to  face  upon  our  bear-skins  and 
blankets,  in  the  centre  of  our  trusty  canoe;  while  our 
baggage  was  carefully  stowed  fore  and  aft,  leaving 
place  for  the  two  paddlers,  Sergeant  Waddle  and  Pri- 
vate M'Connaughy  at  either  extremity,  and  put  forth 
into  the  main  current  of  the  Neosho.  We  were  fol- 
lowed from  the  bank  by  many  a  kind  farewell  from  our 
worthy  and  respected  friend  the  Commissioner ;  a 
grimace  of  utter  despair,  accompanied  by  a  blessing, 
which  sounded  like  an  imprecation,  from  Tonish,  and 
the  best  wishes  of  the  little  knot  of  gallant  officers,  to 
whose  frank  hospitality  we  had  been  greatly  indebted. 

We  were  soon  carried  down  into  the  winding  turbid 
stream  of  the  Arkansas,  and  began  our  paddle  of  five 
hundred  miles  with  good  courage.  Our  mode  of  tra- 
velling had  at  that  time  the  charm  of  novelty,  and  we 
were  not  long  in  coming  to  the  opinion,  that  of  all 
modes  of  water-conveyance,  this  was  the  most  perfectly 
free  from  annoyance.  Our  light  vessel  glided  noise-^ 
lessly  over  the  broad  surface,  or  shot  down  the  rapids. 
Custom  made  us  perfectly  at  ease  to  move  in  her,  and 
change  our  position  without  throwing  her  off  her  ba- 
lance. If  any  thing  on  shore  attracted  our  attention 
there  was  no  difficulty  in  landing  instantly^  If  she 
grounded,  we  either  poled  her  off;  or  if  the  shoal  was 
extensive,  got  into  the  water  and  dragged  her  into  the 
main  channel  again.  We  carried  a  quantity  of  provi* 
sions  with  us;  though  in  general  we  contrived  towards 
VOL.  I.  17 


194 


THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 


night-fall  to  reach  one  of  the  Indian  or  half-breed  clear- 
ings, dispersed  at  long  intervals  along  the  banks,  and 
to  remain  there  till  morning.  Indeed,  we  were  only 
once  obliged,  by  the  approach  of  night,  to  lie  in  the 
woods. 

For  the  rest,  great  were  our  amusement  and  the  op- 
portunities we  had  of  seeing  human  nature  under  sin- 
gular aspects  in  our  descent  towards  the  more  civilized 
world. 

At  the  approach  of  the  first  night  we  landed  just  at 
the  head  of  the  rapid  called  the  Devil's  raceground, 
and  found  shelter  in  a  Cherokee  hut  buried  in  a  wilder- 
ness of  canes,  and  on  the  edge  of  a  clearing  of  perhaps 
ten  acres,  covered  with  the  most  gigantic  crop  of  maize 
we  ever  saw,  the  average  height  being  twenty  feeta 
The  produce  was  here  on  the  lowest  calculation  a 
thousand-fold. 

On  the  second,  no  clearing  appearing  in  sight, 
though  we  continued  to  glide  swiftly  down  the  current 
far  into  the  twilight:  we  therefore  landed  in  the  belt  of 
tall  cotton-wood  poplars  on  the  river  shore,  secured  the 
canoe,  made  a  huge  fire,  cooked  and  eat  our  supper, 
and  lay  down  to  court  sleep  on  our  bear-skins.  Tent 
we  had  none.  I  recollect,  that  we  had  no  sooner  got 
every  thing  arranged  for  the  night,  wl.en  we  became 
aware,  by  the  sounds  of  cattle  and  the  barking  of  dogs 
at  a  distance  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  that  we 
were  only  a  mile  from  a  farm:  and  also  that  one  of 
those  restless  nights  followed,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned^ 
when  the  mind  appears  to  be  too  active  to  allow  repose 
to  settle  down  upon  the  body  ;  so  that  listening  to  the 
strange  noises  from  the  forest  and  darkened  surface  of 
the  river;  one  moment  watching  the  glare  of  the  fires 
from  the  burning  prairies  on  the  sky,  another  looking 
at  the  bright  stars  over-head,  twinkling  through  the 
branches  of  the  poplars,  I  fed  the  fire,  pondered  many 
sweet  and  bitter  subjects  of  recollection  or  reflection  in 
my  wakeful  brain,  and  kept  watch. 

On  the  following  day,  wild  and  sudden  gusts  of  wind 
on  the  river  making  our  advance  dangerous,  after  per- 


FRENCHMAN  JACK, 


195 


severing  till  about  noon,  we  paddled  to  the  left  shore  to 
a  thriving  Cherokee  settlement,  and  took  up  our  quar- 
ters at  a  half-breed's,  called  Frenchman  Jack,  Of  all 
the  odd  families  I  ever  beheld,  this  was  surely  the 
oddest.  The  father  of  the  tamily — a  thickset  athletic 
figure,  in  whom  the  Indian  blood  predominated, — was 
son  of  a  Cherokee  woman  by  a  French  settler;  the 
mother  a  full-blooded  Indian.  Of  several  children, 
the  eldest  was  a  girl  of  about  ten,  of  a  beautifully  fair 
complexion,  with  flaxen  ringlets  and  blue  eyes,  and  all 
the  others  had  the  dark  lineaments  of  the  maternal  tribe. 
None  of  the  family  spoke  either  French  or  English, 
with  the  exception  of  a  negro  slave  girl,  who  acted  as 
our  interpreter.  The  dwelling-house  was  a  substantial 
log-building  of  one  single  apartment,  in  wiiich  there 
was  the  strangest  mixture  of  European  furniture  and 
Indian  apparatus  and  contrivances.  It  was  constructed 
without  windows,  with  abundance  of  crockery,  clothes, 
and  saddles,  all  nicely  stowed  away  on  shelves  and 
pegs.  Two  large  low  bedsteads  filled  up  the  angles  on 
either  side  of  the  door,  and  the  deficiency  of  stools  was 
made  up  by  boxes  of  various  dimensions  which  seemed 
to  contain  t1ie  wardrobe  and  other  treasures  of  the 
family.  Five  other  distinct  erections  of  different  shapes 
and  dimensions  surrounded  the  principal  hut,  and 
served  as  kitchen,  smoke-house,  store-house,  he.  be- 
sides a  shed  covering  the  room  in  which  the  ordinary 
garments  of  the  family  were  woven.  Ever}'  thing  about 
the  premises  bore  an  air  of  negligent  thriftiness;  skins 
of  domestic  animals,  or  those  killed  in  the  chase,  were 
faung  to  dry  on  one  side — stacks  of  fodder  rose  on  the 
other;  cattle  and  horses  rustled  in  the  neighbouring 
cane-brake;  and  the  fierce-looking  pigs,  with  bristling 
mane,  and  erect,  pointed  ears,  eyed  you  a  moment  with 
straddling  legs,  as  you  strolled  through  the  forest  paths, 
and  then,  grunting  savage  defiance,  scampered  away 
over  the  dead  leaves.  As  usual,  the  dogs  were  nume- 
rous, and  seemingly  si  cross  between  the  dog  and  the 
wolf.  Every  thing  had  an  air  of  half-breed,  and  from 
this  the  fowls  were  not  an  exception ;  the  bodies  of  the 


196 


FRENCHMAN  JACiC. 


hens  were  raised  up  upon  long,  yellow,  unsightly  legi 
to  an  unusual  height,  and  a  peculiar  breed  of  ducks 
was  not  wanting  to  complete  the  picture.  The  whole 
of  the  premises  stood  on  the  bluff  bank  of  the  river,  at 
the  angle  of  a  clearing,  surrounded  by  a  zigzag  frnce^ 
and  just  above  the  junction  of  a  small  creek  with  the 
Arkansas.  Two  or  three  canoes  appeared  within  the 
mouth  of  the  former,  which  was  overhung  by  a  group 
of  contorted  hut  noble  sycamores,  the  onl}^  trees  that 
were  left  near  ihe  buildings,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
tall  leafless  ones  among  the  huts,  which  afforded  roosts 
for  the  numerous  cocks  and  hens. 

The  storm  of  wind  conluiuing  without  abatement^ 
we  were  content  to  remain  here.  As  evening  ap- 
proached, our  attention  was  rivetted  to  the  opposite 
banks  of  tlie  river,  from  the  prairie  beyond  wliich  a 
dense  smoke  had  been  driving  along  the  horizon  the 
whole  day.  It  was  evident  that  the  flames  were  ap- 
proaching ihe  river,  and  as  it  became  dark,  they  gained 
the  edge  of  the  prairie.  They  first  got  into  the  cane- 
brake,  crackling  like  a  coniinued  peal  of  musketry, 
and  then  burst  into  the  wood  of  cotton  trees  over 
against  us.  Here,  urged  by  the  wind,  they  coniinued 
raging  for  an  hour  with  the  greatest  violence,  produ- 
cing a  splendid  effect  on  both  the  river  and  the  lower- 
ing sky,  till  driven  more  to  the  northward,  they  began 
to  fail  for  want  of  equally  suitable  fuel.  We  then 
slunk  to  our  blankets,  lying  down  on  the  floor  of  the 
common  apartment,  the  crowded  state  of  which  how- 
ever rendered  it  a  perfect  stove. 

The  following  day  we  were  enabled  to  proceed. 
We  got  beyond  the  Indian  lands,  and  at  noon  reached 
ihe  small  hamlet  rising  upon  the  site  of  the  abandoned 
Fort  Smith,  at  which  we  made  but  a  momentary  halt. 
We  were  now  gradually  approaching  a  region  where 
white  settlements  were  more  frequent ;  ferries  began  to 
be  observable  on  the  banks,  and  the  site  of  future  towns 
marked  by  the  court  houses.  What  the  back  parts  of 
Kentucky  were  some  fifty  years  ago,  and  the  Mexi- 
can province  of  Texas  is  now,  the  country  through 


THE  ARKANSAS  TERRITORY. 


197 


which  we  were  passing  had  been  in  the  intermediate 
period,  and  indeed  till  within  a  very  few  years  back  ; 
namely,  the  sink  into  which  the  offscourings  of  the 
more  settled  parts  of  the  country  precipitated  them- 
selves. 

Hither  came  the  restless  man,  whose  impulses  led 
him  to  keep  the  outskirts  of  society,  and  whose  inter- 
est in  the  clearing  he  had  made,  the  soil  he  had  re- 
claimed from  the  thick  forest,  and  the  hut  he  had  built, 
became  stifled  as  soon  as  the  yet  distant  axe  of  a 
neighbour  was  heard  to  resound  in  his  neighbourhood, 
and  the  smoke  of  additional  clearings  arose  from  the 
deep  blue  horizon.  He  fell  no  strong  tie  to  the  place. 
His  adoption  of  it  had  been  capricious,  his  relinqnish- 
ment  of  it  was  no  less  so ;  and  all  the  more  agreeable 
associations  connected  with  it  were  disturbed  the  mo- 
ment others  came  to  share  the  thinned  game,  and  the 
trees  of  the  forest  could  no  longer  be  felled  into  his 
very  yard.  He  would  complain  of  the  country  becom- 
ing too  crowded,  because  he  could  count  upon  ten 
neighbours  within  a  circuit  of  twice  as  many  miles. 
The  sight  of  a  surveyor,  and  the  approach  of  the  law 
with  all  its  concomitants,  would  be  a  source  of  trouble 
and  disgust  to  him.  Accordingly,  he  would  dispose  of 
his  '  improvement'  and  his  live  stock  to  some  new- 
comer for  a  few  hundred  dollars  ;  pack  up  his  house- 
hold stuff,  collect  his  moveables,  summon  his  wife  to 
follow,  and,  shouldering  his  axe  and  his  rifle,  lead  his 
family  forth  with  comparative  pleasure  to  new  scenes 
of  labour ;  and  interposing  the  mighty  *  Father  of 
Waters'  between  him  and  the  advancing  line  of  civili- 
!zation,  dive  deep  and  bury  himself  in  the  forests  of 
Arkansas.  In  the  same  wilds,  the  murderer,  red  with 
crime,  and  branded  by  the  laws  he  thus  evaded,  sought 
and  obtained  a  sanctuary  from  their  vengeance.  The 
public  defaulter ;  criminals  of  all  degrees;  the  specu- 
lator ;  the  loose  adventurer  ; — all  flocked  to  the  same 
shades,  scattering  themselves  in  the  solitudes  of  the 
forest,  or  on  the  edge  of  the  turbid  river;  or  collected 
together  round  the  Indian   trading  establishments, 

17* 


198 


THE  ARKANSAS  TERRITORY. 


scandalizing  their  white  and  Christian  parentage  by 
shameless  and  vicious  lives  5  oppressing  the  Indian^ 
and  often  waging  the  war  of  the  knife  and  rifle  upon 
another  in  the  spirit  of  revenge  and  bitter  hatred.  In 
the  wake  of  these  would  follow  a  host  of  disorderly 
folk ;  men  whom  crime,  perhaps,  had  not  forced  to  fly 
from  the  precincts  of  civilization,  but  whom  the  hopes  of 
a  free  and  unshackled  life  spent  in  impunity  here,  if 
not  that  of  redeeming  their  fortunes,  would  bring  across 
the  Mississippi.  The  spendthrift,  the  debtor,  he  who 
had  been  enticed  to  enter  into  composition  with  his 
creditors,  and  he  that  had  made  none.  Many  a  man 
born  and  educated  for  better  things,  but  who,  living 
badly  or  too  freely  in  the  old  States,  lastly  mortgaging 
his  estate,  and  plunging  irrecoverably  in  debt,  made 
over  debts  and  property  to  his  eldest  son,  stole  ahorse, 
and  oflf  to  Arkansas! 

To  these  might  be  added,  a  goodly  proportion  of 
the  speculative  and  industrious  scions  from  the  '  north- 
ern hive'  of  New  England,  here  represented  by  a 
single,  plodding,  sharp-witted  pedler  ;  there  by  the 
owner  of  aflat,  advancing  lazily  up  the  river  from  farm 
to  farm,  with  a  tempting  assortment  of  wares ;  and 
again,  by  a  small  knot  of  more  stationary  adventurers, 
who,  fixing  upon  a  favourable  locality,  build  a  log- 
store,  and  set  up  as  a  respectable  firm  of  five  partners, 
with  a  joint  stock  of  goods  to  the  value  of  a  few  hun- 
dred dollars,  and  a  negro  slave.  At  this  stage  the 
honest  portion  of  the  community,  and  it  is  a  growing 
one,  feel  the  inconvenience  of  having  transported  them- 
selves beyond  the  arm  of  the  law.  They  band  toge- 
ther, and  co-operate  for  their  mutual  security,  often 
under  the  name  of  Regulators,  forming  among  them- 
selves that  rough  court  for  the  protection  of  the  inno- 
cent, and  the  punishment  of  the  guilty,  to  which  I  have 
alluded  in  a  former  letter.  They  begin  also  to  dream 
of  glory,  and  to  form  volunteer  companies.  Thus 
thirty  settlers  will  enrol  themselves  into  a  rifle  com- 
pany, and  elect  their  own  ofl5cers  in  such  a  manner 
th^i  every  individual  among  them  has  a  title  to  prefix 


THE  ARKANSAS  TERRITORY. 


199 


to  his  name.  From  the  time  the  good  and  orderly 
predominate,  the  increase  of  population  advances  with 
accelerated  pace.  The  steady  operation  of  tiib  law 
follows;  the  country  is  taken  under  the  wing  of  the 
General  Government.  It  is  then  surveyed  ;  the  au- 
thorized sale  of  lands  succeeds,  and  the  possessor  of  a 
tract  is  either  confirmed  in  permanent  possession  of  that 
which  he  had  taken  from  the  wilderness,  by  purchase 
at  a  low  price  ;  or  disposing  of  his  improvement,  cakes 
the  step  which  I  had  described  at  the  commencement 
of  this  digression.  Roads  are  laid  out,  districts  deter* 
mined  upon,  court-houses  built,  and  strong  log-built 
jails  in  their  vicinity  :  chapels  rise  in  the  middle  of 
the  woods,  and  hamlets  thicken  into  villages,  antici- 
pating in  their  lofty  sounding  names  their  future  glories, 
as  mighty  towns  and  cities.  Then  comes  the  land- 
speculator,  with  a  host  of  expectant  and  hopeful  fol- 
lowers, led  on  by  a  puff,  advancing  and  fixing  them- 
selves in  close  contiguity,  in  some  paradise  of  fertility, 
and  in  their  wake  hundreds  and  thousands  of  others. 
At  the  same  time  the  views  of  the  inhabitants  advance 
beyond  mere  subsistence,  and  the  rivers  begin  to  be 
chequered  by  the  fiats  and  other  craft  loaded  with  the 
rich  produce  of  the  field  and  forest,  dropping  down 
with  the  current  to  the  distant  market:  and  the  sono- 
rous breathing  of  the  steam-boat  is  heard  in  solitudes, 
where  ten  years  before  no  crat\  had  ever  floated  but  the 
light  and  rude  canoe.  This  is  a  state  of  things  not 
genial  to  the  views,  tempers,  and  characters  of  the  first 
inhabitants.  And  though  the  great  distance  between 
the  various  seats  of  justice  and  the  scattered  population 
would  continue  for  a  while  to  be  friendly  to  crime,  and 
insure  it  a  degree  of  impunity  in  many  cases,  yet  the 
country  could  not  longer  be  considered  an  asylum  for 
it  as  heretofore;  and  at  this  day,  the  Province  of  Texas 
has  taken  the  place  of  the  Arkansas  Territory. 

But  we  are  still  on  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  its 
features  may  demand  a  few  lines  of  description.  As> 
to  our  two  fellow-voyagers  for  the  time  being,  both 
were  originals  in  their  way,  though  the  private,  M'Con- 


200 


THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 


naughy,  was  more  distinguished  for  his  general  good 
conduct,  and  his  paddling  and  chewing  incessantly, 
than  anything  else.  As  to  the  Sergeant,  he  being  of 
Yankee  blood,  had  more  than  one  iron  in  the  Are  : 
and  to  tell  the  truth,  loved  peddling  far  better  than 
paddling.  He  had  thriftily  taken  advantage  of  an 
offer  made  him  by  a  trader  at  the  garrison,  to  take  two 
dollars-worth  of  goods,  in  return  for  one  in  cash,  and 
having  made  the  speculation,  he  was  now  bent  upon 
improving  it.  The  consequence  was,  that  we  were 
fully  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  peddling,  by  wit- 
nessing his  daily  attempts  to  get  rid  of  his  chest  of 
finery  to  the  good  wives  along  the  river.  He  was 
honest,  as  times  go  ;  but  could  not  avoid  essaying  to 
give  his  traffic  a  lift  by  many  an  audacious,  but  well- 
meaning  lie.  I  need  hfirdl}^  mention,  that  the  lower 
we  descended,  the  more  frequent  the  farms  became  ; 
though  they  still  continued  so  far  scattered,  that  we 
had  more  than  once  been  benighted  in  our  attempt  to 
get  over  the  ten  or  twelve  miles  between  one  and  the 
other,  at  the  close  of  a  day's  labour;  as,  besides  the 
distance,  it  became  very  difficult  to  descry  them  after 
dusk,  as  they  were  ordinarily  a  little  removed  from  the 
bank.  However,  necessity  taught  us  to  betake  our- 
selves to  a  very  simple  and  infallible  expedient  for 
attaining  this  object,  whenever  we  were  belated  ;  which 
consisted  in  our  setting  up  a  rough  imitation  of  canine 
yelping  and  howling,  which  as  soon  as  they  could  dis- 
tinguish it  on  the  long  reaches  of  the  river,  was  in- 
stantly answered  by  the  dogs  at  the  farms.  As  we 
descended,  the  style  of  architecture  gradually  improved, 
and  after  a  long  acquaintance  with  nothing  but  log- 
huts,  we  began  to  meet  with  frame  and  clapboard 
houses  of  various  dimensions,  though  it  was  not  till  we 
reached  Little  Rock,  five  hundred  miles  from  the  fort, 
that  we  met  with  anything  of  a  yet  more  permanent 
character.  On  the  sixth  day  after  the  commencement 
of  our  voyage,  we  reached  the  point  called  the  Darda- 
nelles, and  met  two  steamboats  toiling  up  the  river, — 
the  waters  of  which  had  been  on  the  increase  ever  since 


THE  ARKANSAS  RIVEH. 


201 


the  day  of  our  departure;  straining  every  nerve  to 
ascend  the  stream,  and  deposit  their  cargoes  either  at 
Fort  Smith  or  Fort  Gibson,  before  the  failure  of  the 
present  rise  should  leave  tl>em  aground,  to  calculate 
the  balance  between  profit  and  loss. 

Hitherto  the  scener}^  had  been  extremely  varied.  Our 
position  on  the  deep  bosom  of  the  river,  it  is  true,  never 
allowed  us  an  extended  view  upon  the  adjacent  country^ 
and  was  frequently  bounded  for  many  miles  together, 
by  the  forests,  sand-bars,  and  low  alluvial  lands  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  its  bed,  with  their  green  bands  of 
cane,  frequented  by  bears  and  turkeys,  and  long  lines 
of  sober  gray  poplars.  Among  these  the  river  swept 
majestically  along,  sometimes  in  one  broad  channel  of 
a  third  of  a  mile  in  breadth,  and  at  others  in  many 
difl'erent  currents,  spread  over  a  far  greater  surface,  as 
its  vast  bed  was  obstructed  by  poplar-covered  islands 
and  shoals.  At  such  time  frequent  breaks  were  ob- 
servable in  the  banks,  through  which  the  surplus  waters 
are  discharged  in  the  rainy  months,  into  innumerable 
ponds  and  bayous.  The  bright  shoals  were  at  this 
season  covered  with  long  lines  of  ducks,  geese,  and 
brants.  The  extreme  vigilance  and  trumpet  voice  of 
the  latter  gigantic  species,  rendered  approach  within 
shot  an  utter  impossibility.  Flights  of  these  birds  were 
seen  continually  winging  their  wedge-like  phalanx 
over  our  heads.  Swans  were  occasionally  met  with, 
and  such  immense  flights  of  pigeons  as  I  dare  not  de- 
scribe, lest  I  should  be  accused  of  sharing  the  inventive 
powers  and  disposition  of  many  of  my  class.  They 
passed  over  our  heads  at  irregular  intervals,  with  a 
very  swift  flight  to  the  southward;  their  numbers  in- 
creasing greatly  whenever  the  sky  was  overcast.  While 
in  America,  I  never  succeeded  in  seeing  one  of  their 
roosts,  but  met  much  evidence  confirmatory  of  the 
singular  appearance  presented  by  the  place  of  their 
retreat,  where  millions  seem  to  congregate,  breaking 
down  the  arms  of  the  trees  by  their  mere  weight,  and 
covering  the  ground  to  a  great  depth  with  their  manure. 
Ill  many  parts  of  the  Midland  States,  the  crows  are 


202 


THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 


known  to  congregate  in  the  winter  season  in  the  depth 
of  the  forest  in  almost  equal  numbers. 

Whenever  the  river  took  a  large  sw^eep,  we  were 
sure  to  find  acui-off,  or  straight  channel,  opened  in  the 
bank,  and  forming  a  chord  to  the  arc,  by  which  much 
of  the  water  of  the  river  passed  downward  in  time  of 
flood,  but  at  other  times  is  mostly  choked  with  immense 
quantities  of  rubbish;  and  many  were  our  debates  and 
arguments  for  or  against  yielding  to  the  temptation  of 
attempting  to  take  advantage  of  these  seducing  short- 
cuts. 

Huge  accumulations  of  bleaching  driftwood  tmd 
timber  lay  piled  up  at  the  heads  of  the  islands  and  on 
the  sand-bars.  Snags  were  abundant,  but  we  were 
preserved  from  serious  accidents. 

Upon  the  rich  alluvial  soil  displayed  to  a  great  depth 
on  the  perpendicular  banks,  we  had  a  section-map  of 
the  different  depositions  for  many  centuries.  They 
were  dark  red,  yellow,  or  light-coloured,  according  to 
the  tributary  stream  down  which  the  flood,  which  had 
deposited  them,  had  come.  Thus  we  knew  that  the 
white  lines  had  been  deposited  by  a  rise  of  the  Neosho 
or  Verdigris,  and  the  deep  red  by  those  of  the  Red 
Fork,  or  Canadian,  to  the  southward.  Yet  you  must 
not  imagine  from  what  I  have  stated  above,  that  the 
general  surface  of  the  country  was  level ;  in  fact,  this 
was  far  from  being  the  case.  A  chain  of  hills,  called 
the  Ozark  mountains,  of  considerable  extent  to  the 
northward,  rise  in  this  part  of  the  great  western  valley, 
and  often  abut  upon  the  Arkansas,  presenting  steep 
wooded  acclivities  on  either  side,  with  a  small  appear- 
ance of  pine-covered  rocks  toward  the  summit.  At 
the  Dardanelles,  the  river  cuts  through  a  spur  of  this 
chain  of  greater  height  than  ordinary,  and  forms  by  far 
the  most  picturesque  scene  found  along  its  course. 
Below  this  point,  it  holds  a  monotonous  and  rather 
uninteresting  course  for  many  miles.  On  the  eighth 
night,  we  entered  with  the  twilight  a  singular  division 
of  the  stream,  forming  a  long  basin,  broad  and  tranquil 
as  a  lakcj  with  a  high  pine-covered  rocky  shore  on  one 


LITTLE  ROCK.. 


203 


side,  and  a  uniform  grove  of  cotton-wood  trees  bending 
over  tlie  water  for  five  or  six  miles  in  a  straight  line  on 
the  other;  and  from  this  point  to  Little  Rock,  or 
Acropolis,  as  the  learned  prefer  to  call  it,  the  capital 
town  or  seat  of  government  of  the  territory,  twenty  or 
thirty  miles  distant,  the  river  flowed  for  the  most  part 
in  contiguity  to  the  hills,  which  here  and  there  pre- 
sented rather  a  picturesque  outline. 

We  arrived  at  Little  Rock  on  the  morning  of  Dec. 
9th,  and,  finding  the  common  inns  very  discreditable 
resorts,  were  received  with  courtesy  into  a  clean  and 
decent  boarding-house,  kept  by  a  respectable  baptist 
minister. 

Though  we  were  aware  that  the  steamboats  which 
we  had  seen  on  their  passage  up  the  river,  would 
shortly  return  to  Little  Rock,  and  that  we  might  con- 
tinue our  voyage  to  the  Mississippi  by  their  means, 
yet  we  had  become  so  partial  to  our  canoe,  and  the 
perfect  independence  and  absence  from  annoyance 
which  it  enabled  us  to  maintain,  that  we  felt  inclined  to 
pursue  our  voyage  to  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  in  her. 
The  distance  to  Montgomery's  Point  was  yet  between 
two  and  three  hundred  miles.  An  unexpected  obstacle 
to  our  intention,  however,  arose  in  the  conduct  of  our 
paddler,  M'Connaughy,  who,  true  to  the  impulses  of 
his  warm  Irish  blood,  unfortunately  fell  into  bad  com- 
pany the  moment  he  got  ashore  ;  and  partly  terrified 
by  the  idea  of  confronting  the  cholera,  which  was  still 
reported  to  rage  in  some  of  the  Mississippi  steamboats; 
partly  cajoled  by  the  hope  of  lucrative  employment, 
and  lastly,  through  the  incapacitating  effects  of  whiskey, 
resolved  to  remain  here. 

We  had  therefore,  whether  we  would  or  no,  to  wait 
for  the  first  steamboat.  It  came  down  the  river  the 
following  day,  after  we  had  passed  a  quiet  Sunday  in 
very  comfortable  quarters.  Of  Little  Rock,  I  can  say 
little,  but  that  it  is  one  of  those  thriving  places  fre- 
quently n^et  with,  where  society  is  still  in  a  ferment; 
the  good  and  the  evil  being  strangely  mixed  up  to- 
gether. 


204 


LITTLE  ROCK. 


The  *  Reindeer'  made  but  a  short  pause,  and  early 
the  foliowuig  morning  st.irted  with  its  freight  and 
passengers  on  its  downward  course. 

So  here,  in  a  measure,  we  finished  our  wanderings 
in  the  Far  West,  and  tliat  with  real  regret.  Every 
species  of  travelling  has  its  lessons,  and  this  had  not 
been  wanting  in  such.  During  our  journey  of  a  thou- 
sand miles  in  this  region,  we  had  become  acquainted 
with  much  of  that  species  of  knowledge  which  is  the 
stay  of  the  hunter,  and  gives  him  assurance  in  the  vast 
solitudes  of  the  the  trackless  forest  and  prairie.  Many 
a  secret  of  horse-craft  and  wood-craft  had  been  revealed 
to  us.  We  had  been  taught  to  distinguish  the  trail  of  one 
animal  from  another, — to  steer  according  to  the  tokens 
afforded  in  sunless  days  by  the  trees  of  the  forest  and 
the  plants  of  the  prairie  of  the  side  from  which  the  north 
wind  blows,  or  the  sun  should  appear, — to  know  the 
track  of  Indian  friend  or  Indian  enemy, — to  distinguish 
their  forsaken  camps  and  to  read  their  hieroglyphic 
signs  graven  on  the  trees.  We  had  found  that  to  sleep 
unhoused,  night  after  night,  for  a  month  together,  in 
the  damp  air  of  the  deep  forest,  is  not  necessarily  fol- 
lowed by  colds,  sneezing,  or  consumption  ;  and  that 
one  may  contrive  to  live  on  animal  food  without  bread 
or  salt,  without  indigestion.  We  had  been  shown  how 
to  follow  the  bee  from  the  flower  to  his  distant  hive  in 
the  hollow  oak  ;  and  when  the  tree  was  felled,  how  to 
despoil  and  rifle  the  gathered  sweets.  Whether  always 
successful  hunters  or  no,  we  had  learned  to  be  patient 
and  good  tempered  ones  ;  to  provide  fire  under  many 
disadvantages,  and  to  kill  and  cook  our  supper  under 
as  many  more.  Lastly,  we  had  learned  to  paddle  a 
canoe ;  make  our  own  moccasins,  and  bag  a  bison. 
Were  not  these  accomplishments  worth  crossing  six 
thousand  miles  of  sea  and  land  to  acquire? 

There  was  one  art,  however,  among  some  others  that 
shall  be  nameless,  in  which  I  honestly  confess  for  my 
part,  that  frequently  as  I  have  tried  to  perfect  myself  in 
it,  I  never  could  attain  the  most  distant  success.  That 
is  the  art  of  decoying,  which  is  at  best  an  evil  one.  As 


LITTLE  ROCK. 


205 


to  thf  jode  in  which  the  hunter  raid  the  Indian  will 
attract  the  deer  to  their  destruction,  by  '  bleating;' — 
taking  the  gentle  animal's  life  by  treacherously  exciting 
its  natural  sympathies, —  there  is  something  so  heartless 
and  diabolical  about  it,  that  I  trust  nothing  w^ould 
tempt  me  to  practise  it.  Yet  1  plead  guilty  to  having 
sometimes  tried  to  coax  the  turkeys  in  rather  an  extra- 
ordinary way.  Those  feelings  of  pity  and  compassion 
which  were  easily  excited  in  behalf  of  the  deer,  were 
certainly  a  little  obtuse  in  the  case  of  these  feathered 
bipeds,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the}^  had  been  without 
the  pale  of  my  sympathies.  The  practised  hunter  will  ^ 
induce  them  to  approach  nim  as  he  steals  through  the 
grass,  by  a  skilful  imitation  of  their  gobble  and  piping. 
But  often,  as  buried  in  the  thick  cane  brake,  and 
watching  one  of  those  little  openings  where  the  birds 
sun  themselves,  I  heard  the  tread,  rustle,  and  voices  of 
the  turkeys  around  me,  and  have  attempted  to  allure 
them  to  me  by  an  imitation  of  their  notes,  1  never  suc- 
ceeded in  a  single  instance.  I  set  up,  for  example,  a 
weak,  amorous,  sentimental  piping  like  the  female — it 
was  in  vain  !  no  broad-backed,  round-tailed,  burly 
turkey-cock  made  his  appearance.  I  gobbled  in  the 
most  seducing  fashion,  throwing  as  much  devotion  into 
my  tones  as  1  could  contrive  ;  I  essayed  to  compress  a 
thousand  blandishments  into  the  few  gutteral  sounds 
that  were  permissible,  but  these,  far  from  dieting  any 
sympathetic  response,  seemed  to  put  the  whole  gang  to 
instant  though  cautious  flight;  for  I  invariably  observed 
that  very  briefly,  after  an  attempt  of  the  latter  kind, 
every  sound  became  hushed,  but  the  beating  of  my  own 
impatient  and  disappointed  heart.  It  was  evident  that 
there  was  no  mistaking  me  for  a  turkey,  and  all  the 
birds  that  I  ever  brought  to  the  mess,  were  the  fruits  of 
a  less  guileful,  more  straightforward  and  summary  mode 
of  proceeding. 

But  you  have  now  the  sum  of  our  attainments. 
What  use  we  were  to  make  of  them  on  our  return  to 
civilized  society,  we  could  not  tell  ;  but  we  were  well 
satisfied  with  our  adventure>,  and  the  acquisitions  con^ 

VOL.  I.  18 


206 


LITTLE  ROCK. 


sequent  upon  them  ;  and,  1  trust,  not  unmindful  of,  or 
ungrateful  for,  the  merciful  preservation  we  had  expe- 
rienced from  many  evils,  hidden  and  apparent,  and  for 
undiminished  health  and  strength. 

Though  we  had  now  determined  to  repair  in  all 
haste  to  the  Atlantic  cities  to  pass  our  winter,  we  at  this 
time  meditated  a  return  for  a  second  campaign  in  the 
Buffalo-range  the  following  year — but  you  will  see,  if 
our  paiience  is  mutual,  how  that  project  was  defeated  ; 
and  how,  though  we  again  visited  the  West,  we  even- 
tually bent  our  attention  and  steps  in  another  direc- 
tion, and  towards  another  remarkable  feature  of  the 
American  Continent. 

Below  Little  Kock,  the  river  seems  to  have  escaped 
from  the  hilly  country,  and,  with  few  exceptions,  to 
roll  his  red  waters  through  a  comparatively  monoto- 
nous region.    A  few  pine-covered  bluifs  of  moderate 
elevation  appear  on  the  shore  from  time  to  time  ;  for 
the  rest,  the  eternal  forest  and  the  belt  of  cotton-wood 
poplar  bound  the  view  on  both  sides.    The  latter  tall 
and  shapely  tree  is  the  spontaneous  growth  of  the  soil 
throughout  the  rich  alluvial  plains  of  the  West.  When- 
ever the  earth  is  torn  from  the  outer  edge  of  the  sweep, 
and  thrown  up  on  the  inner,  they  instantly  spring  up 
in  a  thick  and  even  grove,  and  in  six  or  eight  years 
are  large  enough  to  be  cut  for  the  use  of  the  steam- 
boats.   The  beauty  and  regularity  of  the  semi-circular 
bends  of  the  Arkansas  are  very  striking.    The  w^idth 
does  not  increase  proportionably,  as  might  be  experted 
from  its  great  length  of  course,  and  the  volume  of 
many  of  its  tributary  streams, — but  this,  as  remarked 
before,  is  one  of  the  singular  features  of  all  the  great 
western  rivers.    A  large  quantity  of  surplus  water  is 
drawn  off  into  the  numerous  lakes  and  bayous  by  which 
the  lower  region  is  intersected.    These  bayous  appear 
covered  with  aquatic  plants,  many  of  them  most  strik- 
ing in  size  and  beauty  of  flower,- — and  they  formerly 
were  the  favourite  resort  of  the  alligator,^  though  few 
are  now  found  as  high  as  this  latitude. 

The  only  remarkable  town  below  Little  Rock,  is 


THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 


207 


the  post  of  Arkansas  situated  on  the  left  bank,  and 
that,  less  on  account  of  any  thing  in  its  appearance, 
than  for  its  antiquity,  having  been  settled  by  the  fol- 
lowers of  Ferdinand  de  Soto,  the  first  discoverer  of 
these  southern  regions,  from  Florida  to  the  frontiers  of 
Texas,  as  early  as  1540.  He  penetrated,  v^^ith  a  thou- 
sand men,  from  the  peninsula  of  Florida,  across  Ala- 
bama and  the  Chickasaw  country  to  the  Mississippi. 
He  was  probably  the  first  white  man  who  beheld  that 
river.  Since  that  time,  the  town  has  been  in  continued 
occupation  by  the  Spanish  and  French  Creoles ;  the 
latter  of  whom  form  the  bulk  of  its  population  to  the 
present  day. 

Our  steamboat  was  of  small  size,  but  otherwise  com- 
modious, and  had  it  not  been  for  a  large  and  heavily 
laden  ark  which  she  towed  alongside,  our  voyage 
would  have  been  both  agreeable  and  speedy.  About 
noon  on  the  second  day,  we  turned  out  of  the  river  into 
the  singular  natural  canal  or  bayou,  called  the  Grand 
Cut,  which  connects  the  waters  of  the  Arkansas  with 
those  of  White  River.  It  is  about  six  miles  long,  and 
serves  in  time  of  flood  to  discharge  a  portion  of  the 
surplus  water  of  either  river  into  the  other.  At  this 
time  the  Arkansas  was  flowing  into  White  River, 
mingling  a  turbid  stream  with  the  pure  current  of  its 
neighbour.  A  subsequent  descent  of  a  few  miles 
brought  us  to  the  Mississippi  once  more,  and  after 
stemtning  its  current  for  an  hour,  we  reached  the  store- 
houses at  Point  Montgomery,  where  we  landed  to  await 
the  arrival  of  the  first  steamboat  ascending  the  river. 
*  The  Reindeer'  then  wheeled  round  and  pursued  its 
voyage  towards  New-Orleans,  six  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant. 

We  were  detained  nearly  two  days  at  the  Point, 
looking  with  anxious  eyes  on  the  broad  bosom  of  the 
mighty  river,  which  is  here  of  great  width,  casting  up 
immense  beds  of  sand,  in  which  may  be  seen  the  wrecks 
of  numberless  boats,  rafts  and  arks,  half  imbedded  in 
the  soil  between  high  and  low  watermark.  Truly,  this 
is  the  *  terrible  Mississippi !' 


208 


MONTGOMERY'S  POlNT. 


Montgomerj^'s  Point  did  not,  at  the  time  I  speak  ofj 
rank  either  in  fact  or  courtesy  above  a  small  hamlet^ 
and  was  apparently  merely  of  importance  as  the  point 
where  goods  might  be  deposited  ;  and  whence  the 
steamboats  ascending  the  Arkansas  and  Wliite  River 
could  take  tlieir  departure.  In  this  portion  ot^  the 
valley  of  the  Mississippi,  the  settlements  are  yet  wide 
apart — but  if  the  events  of  the  future  can  at  all  be 
augured  by  the  past,  many  years  cannot  elapse  before 
the  whole  of  this  immensely  fertile  region  will  teem 
with  inhabitants.  1  remember  listening  in  the  dusk  of 
the  evening  to  the  sounds  which  were  borne  across  the 
wide  river,  indicative  of  the  presence  of  man — the  axe, 
the  horse-bells  in  the  cane,— the  cry  of  the  women  fol- 
lowing the  cattle  ;  those  sounds  which  are  the  first  to 
break  the  silence  of  the  forest,  and  soon  to  be  followed 
by  the  hum  of  crowds  and  the  din  of  manufactories. 

Forty  years  ago,  there  were  but  150,000  white  in- 
habitants sprinkled  throughout  the  confines  of  the  great 
valley  of  the  Mississippi  ;  and  now  probably  four 
millions  and  a  half,  at  the  same  time  thnt  every 
avenue,  from  the  east  and  sotith  is  crowded  with  fresh 
accessions. 

It  would  be  utterly  out  of  the  question  to  compress 
into  a  sheet  or  two  of  post  paper,  even  the  outlines  of 
those  topics  of  interest  which  have  a  reference  to  the 
phenomena,  features,  and  past  and  present  condition  of 
this  great  valley.  Leaving  you  to  consult  Flint's 
Geography  for  a  vast  mass  of  information  which  the 
patient  and  worthy  author  has  collected,  I  can  only 
throw  together  a  few  hints  for  your  present  perusal. 

Of  all  the  rivers  wliich  drain  that  great  central  valley, 
which  occupies  the  whole  of  the  interior  of  the  North 
American  continent,  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the 
Alleghany,  and  from  the  Mexican  Gulf  to  the  Icy  Sea, 
the  Mississippi  is  doubtless  the  most  remarkable,  both 
from  the  length  of  its  course  and  that  of  its  confluents  ; 
its  individual  character  ;  the  natural  phenomena  con- 
nected with  it,  and  the  great  fertility  of  the  region 
through  which  it  flows. 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


209 


The  central  part  of  the  basin  from  which  both  the 
Mississippi,  and  the  other  great  drains  of  the  Valley 
diverge  to  the  north,  east,  and  south,  you  must  look 
for  in  that  wide  extent  of  level  couniry,  covered  with 
innumerable  lakes  and  swamps,  which  lies  to  the  north 
and  west  of  the  great  lakes.    There,  interlocking  with 
one  another  without  any  intervening  ridges,  the  innu- 
merable sources  of  the  Mississippi,  St.  Lawrence,  the 
rivers  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and  those  of  the  Icy  Sea,  ai^ 
to  be  found;  at  first  filtering,  or  flowing  sluggishly 
from  one  wide  lake  to  another,  and  through  rice  covered 
swamps, — the  home  of  myriads  of  water-fowl,  till  the 
accumulated  waters  take  a  decided  bed,  and  the  direc- 
tion which  God  has  marked  for  each.    Many  of  these 
rivers,  by  turning  to  the  northward,  run  further  and 
further  from  those  temperate  regions  where  man  has  fixed 
his  main  seat ;  and  little  or  nothing  of  them  is  known* 
With  the  two  principal,  however,  the  Mississippi  and 
the  St.  Lawrence,  it  is  otherwise ;  and  though,  as  yet, 
but  a  small  part  of  the  immense  regions  which  they 
water  are  fully  explored,  and  still  less  brought  under 
the  hand  of  man  ;  yet,  the  day  appears  to  be  approach- 
ing when  in  all  probabi-lity  they  will  be  the  seat  of 
millions.    The  idea  which  has  been  entertained  by 
many,  that  the  whole  of  these  central  parts  of  the  con- 
tinent were  once  submerged,  and  that  the  entire  breadth 
of  the  region  between  the  Alleghany  and  Mountains  of 
Labrador  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Rocky  Mountains 
on  the  other,  was  one  unbroken  sea,  may  appear  extra- 
vagant to  those  who  have  had  no  opportunity  of  visiting 
the  West,  or  vievt  ing  the  phenomena  which  ihey  present 
in  detail.    I  can  only  add  one  to  the  number  of  those 
who  would  feel  inclined  to  maintain  the  probability. 
The  whole  region  through  which  the  Mississippi  flows, 
from  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  which  we  reached,  as 
you  will  find,  in  the  following  year,  bears  ample  evi- 
dence of  this  having  been  the  case,  or  at  least  such  as 
it  would  be  very  difficult  to  refer  to  any  other  theory 
than  that  of  the  ocean  having  gradually  retired,  leaving 
#ie  waters  gushing  out  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  to 

18* 


210 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


follow  and  wear  themselves  channels  through  the  io- 
dined  plane,  as  they  pursued  the  retiring  footsteps  of 
their  great  parent  to  the  several  points  of  the  compass. 
If  not  to  this  great  natural  revolution,  to  what  shall  we 
refer  the  evident  proofs  of  the  gradual  descent  of  the 
bed  of  the  Mississippi,  to  be  gathered  from  the  marks 
of  the  gentle,  but  long-continued  action  of  water  in  the 
upper  part  of  iis  course,  where  the  river  has  worn 
itself  a  bed  many  hundred  feet  deep;  or  the  regular 
horizontal  deposition  of  earthy  strata.  What  will  ac- 
count for  the  appearances  afforded  by  the  wide  open 
prairies,  or  the  vast  salt-covered  plains  of  the  Far  West, 
and  as  you  descend  towards  the  Gulf  to  those  portions 
of  the  country  from  the  surface  of  which  the  waters 
of  the  ocean  must  have  retired  the  latest,  and  upon 
which  time  has  not  yet  laid  the  same  load  of  alluvion 
which  covers  the  country  more  to  the  north — whence 
those  vast  collections  of  gigantic  sea  shells^  on  and 
under  the  surface,  to  the  depth  of  forty  and  fifty  feet? 

Leaving  the  St.  Lawrence  for  the  present,  my  sub- 
ject is  now  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi,  which,  taken 
in  its  wide  sense,  comprises  the  whole  of  the  region 
between  the  Lakes  and  the  Gulf,  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  Alleghany,  and  as  such,  is  the  hirgest 
on  the  globe.  As  to  the  propriety  of  the  Mississippi 
retaining  its  pre-eminence  as  the  main  river,  in  spite  of 
the  greater  length  of  the  Missouri,  I  have  elsewhere 
remarked  that  it  is  evidently  the  central  river  of  the 
region. 

The  whole  Valley  is  considered  as  lying  between 
two  great  planes.  The  eastern  is  comparatively  nar- 
row, and  consequently  the  tributaries  to  the  main  river 
on  that  side  have  a  shorter  course  than  those  on  the 
opposite,  which  extends  to  the  base  of  the  Rocky 
mountains,  and  over  which  flow  the  Missouri,  Arkan- 
sas, Red  river,  Sic.  and  their  own  tributaries. 

Of  the  Mississippi,  above  the  junction  of  the  Mis- 
souri, I  may  find  an  opportunity  and  leisure  to  tell  you 
more  at  a  future  d^y.  It  may  be  said  to  be  a  beauti- 
ful river  throughout  the  greater  part  of  its  upper  course; 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


211 


but  that  epithet  is  no  longer  suited  to  it,  after  its  pure 
waters  have  been  discoloured  by  the  junction  of  its 
great  tributary,  the  Missouri.  Then,  from  a  compara- 
tively calm,  transparent  stream,  flowing  with  a  silvery 
surface  between  varied  shores,  among  islands  and  bright 
sand-banks, — it  becomes  for  the  remaining  part  of  its 
course,  a  dark,  turbid,  and  boiling  torrent,  sweeping 
forward  with  irresistible  fury  ;  covered  with  large  con- 
vex swells  and  whirls,  like  a  boiling  cauldron  ;  and  in 
its  terrible  alternations  between  Hood  and  low  water, 
producing  such  sudden  changes  in  the  surface  of  the 
alluvial  region  through  which  it  flows,  as  no  one  can 
have  an  idea  of  who  has  Hot  seen  and  marked  them. 

In  the  part  of  the  bed  of  the  river  below  its  junction 
with  the  Ohio,  enormous  wreck-heaps,  shores  cut  down 
perpendicularly  to  the  water's  edge;  vast  deposits  of 
mud  and  rubbish  ;  land-slips  caused  by  the  undermin- 
ing of  the  banks — when  the  soil,  with  all  its  rich  bur- 
den of  cane  and  forest,  goes  headlong  into  the  flood, 
and  is  carried  away  to  be  deposited  elsewhere, — are 
throughout  to  be  seen.  Here  the  stranger  is  shown  a 
bed  of  sand  and  soil  extending  over  four  or  five  thou- 
sand acres,  deposited  where  four  years  before  the  river 
had  its  bed  ;  there  a  '  cut-ofl^,'  w  here,  in  time  of  flood, 
the  headlong  torrent  had  burst  over  the  narrow  neck 
of  land  which  separated  the  opposite  points  of  the  great 
curve  which  it  had  hitherto  followed.  These  regular 
semicircular  sweeps,  often  twenty  miles  in  circuit,  are 
a  common  feature  of  the  parent  stream  as  well  as  of  its 
tributaries,  and  display  the  same  phenomena  on  a  yet 
greater  scale.  There  you  see  the  perpendicular  outer 
line  eating  into  the  land,  and  the  inner,  where  the  new 
deposits  are  made,  with  the  smooth  bar  swelling  from 
the  water's  edge,  covered  by  its  plantation  of  cotton- 
wood  trees,  rising  in  regular  degrees,  from  the  red  scions 
of  last  year's  growth,  to  the  gray  trunks  of  the  full 
grown  tree.  Innumerable  ponds  and  bayous  beyond 
the  present  course  of  the  river,  choked  by  accumulations 
of  timber  and  aquatic  plants,  mark  the  spots  over  which 
it  had  formerly  run,  but  which  have  been  forsaken  in  its 


212 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


Strangely  capricious  movements.  Man  has  profited  by 
this  inclination,  and  by  the  application  of  a  little  labour 
at  the  Grand  Cut-ofF,  the  steamboats  now  pass  through 
an  isthmus  of  less  than  a  mile  in  length,  instead  of  mak- 
ing a  circuit  of  twenty. 

Like  all  its  great  tributaries,  the  Mississippi  is  as 
broad,  a  thousand  miles  from  its  mouth,  as  at  the  point 
where  it  disembogues  ;  and  even  at  its  junction  w^ith 
the  Missouri,  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  the  Gulf,  it  is 
broader  than  at  New-Orleans.  Still  eight  hundred 
miles  higher,  at  the  foot  of  the  Falls,  it  is  only  one- 
third  less  in  breadth  than  before  that  city.  As  you  de- 
scend it,  you  see  it  receiving  r'ver  after  river,  one  broad 
stream  after  another,  but  you  notice  no  accession  to  its 
width.  The  Missouri, — the  Ohio, — the  Arkansas, — 
the  Red  river,  pour  in  their  floods  of  waters — all  seem 
swallowed  up  in  a  bottomless  channel.  The  mud  of 
the  Missouri,  and  bright  red  of  the  Arkansas,  colour 
its  waters,  and  perhaps  add  to  its  impatience  and  swift- 
ness, but  not  to  its  expanse.  After  its  junction  with  the 
Red  river,  the  Mississippi  carries  its  greatest  volume; 
as  about  two  leagues  below,  the  first  important  bayou 
opens  in  the  right  bank,  which,  though  four  hundred 
miles  from  the  ocean,  carries  off  a  portion  of  the  waters 
to  the  Gulf.  This  is  the  bayou  Atchafalaya,  which  is 
believed  to  be  the  ancient  bed  by  which  the  Red  river 
communicated  with  the  Gulf,  ere  it  became  a  tributary 
of  the  Mississippi.  Below  this  point  the  outlets  are 
numerous. 

The  medium  breadth  of  the  river  below  the  Missouri 
may  be  considered  as  a  mile  from  bank  to  bank,  with  a 
current  of  four  miles  an  hour  in  ordinary  stages  of  the 
same ;  but  it  often  expands  to  a  much  greater  width  ; 
and  seen  from  the  bluffs  of  Memphis,  for  example,  with 
its  wide  shoals,  islands,  and  indented  shores,  it  struck 
me  as  much  more  resembling  an  arm  of  the  sea  than  an 
inland  river. 

As  to  insurmountable  impediments  to  the  navigation 
from  the  Gulf  to  the  Falls,  there  is  none  beyond  those 
which  are  caused  by  occasional  low  waters  at  the  Des 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


213 


Moines  Rapids,  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  its  mouth, 
and  the  severity  of  the  winter,  in  the  higher  parts  of  its 
course. 

Those  vast  accumulations  of  drift  timber,  which  are 
remarked  on  some  of  its  tributaries,  growing  year  by 
year,  so  as  entirely  to  impede  the  navigation,  are  not 
found  in  any  part  of  the  main  river.  Toward  the 
delta  they  indeed  form  the  basis  upon  which  the  sand 
and  mud  subsides,  and  give  rise  to  the  innumerable 
acres  of  new  land,  by  which  the  continent  is  yearly  en- 
croaching upon  the  domain  of  the  ocean.  By  far  the 
most  remarkable  accumulation  of  this  kind  in  the  West, 
I  may  observe,  was  the  great  raft  obstructing  the  na- 
vigation of  Red  river  a  few  hundred  miles  above  its 
point  of  junction  with  the  Mississippi,  where,  owicg  to 
natural  causes,  a  compact  body  of  floating  timber,  one 
hundred  and  forty  miles  long,  and  from  half  a  mile  to 
a  mile  in  breadth,  interposed,  till  lately,  a  stupendous 
and  yearly  increasing  barrier  to  the  navigation  of  the 
higher  parts  of  the  river.  That  this  should  ever  decay 
or  be  cut  away  would  have  seemed  a  hopeless  expecta- 
tion, and  so  any  one  would  have  said  in  1832  ;  but  in 
the  course  of  the  succeeding  year,  an  attempt  was  made 
by  Captain  Shreve,  who  by  making  a  few  judicious 
cuts,  succeeded  in  actually  clearing  away  seventy  miles 
of  the  raft,  and  the  steamboats  then  ascended  as  far  as 
the  Caddo  Agency,  a  point  seventy-one  miles  higher 
than  could  be  reached  by  them  in  the  spring.  The 
raft  was  found  to  cover  full  one-third  of  the  whole  sur- 
face of  the  river,  with  a  medium  depth  of  twenty -five 
feet  of  timber,  often  compact  and  solid  to  the  very  bot- 
tom. Seventy  miles  still  remained  to  be  removed,  but 
that  has  been  probably  done  by  this  time.  In  the  Mis- 
souri and  Mississippi,  the  greatest  danger  to  navigation 
arising  from  natural  causes,  may  be  justly  attributed  to 
the  position  of  trees  deeply  imbedded  with  their  roots 
in  the  river,  and  called  according  to  their  fixed  or 
moveable  position,  snags,  planters,  or  sawyers;  and  so 
great  lias  been  the  loss  of  life  and  property  by  the 
steamboats  striking  on  them,  that,  herculean  as  the  task 


214 


THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


may  appear,  the  attempt  has  been  made  to  free  the 
river  from  this  imoediment,  partly  by  destroying  the 
snafus,  and  partly  by  cutting  down  the  timber  on  the 
banks.  For  the  former  purpose,  two  steamboats  of 
peculiar  construction  have  been  employed  for  some 
years,  under  the  direction  of  the  above-mentioned  en- 
gineer, and  much  has  already  been  done.  In  the 
twelve  months  terminating  in  September,  1833,  the 
two  snag-boats  under  his  direction  had  raised  and  cut 
off  I960  snags,  and  in  the  intervals,  when  high  water 
prevented  the  pursuing  this  branch  of  their  labour, 
the  crews  had  felled  ten  thousand  trees  from  the  banks. 
But  it  is  time  to  bring  this  letter  with  its  various  con- 
tents to  a  conclusion. 


LETTER  XVIIL 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  a  small  cloud  of 
white  steam,  seen  like  a  star  in  the  dark  blue  shade  of 
the  forests,  seven  or  eight  miles  off,  announced  the  ap- 
proach of  a  steamboat  toiling  up  the  river.  In  half 
an  hour's  time  we  could  distinguish  the  sonorous 
breathing  of  the  scape-pipe,  and  by  the  time  that  the 
wild  song  or  the  negro  firemen  reached  the  ear,  all 
was  bustle  and  preparation.  The  bell  on  shore  w^as 
rung  to  bring  the  steamer  to  ;  and  jumping  into  a 
wherry,  we  found  ourselves  on  board  the  *  Cavalier,' 
a  boat  of  the  second  or  third  class,  bound  from  New 
Orleans  to  Pittsburg,  and  took  possession  of  the  berths 
which  we  eventually  retained  till  our  arrival  at  Wheel- 
ing a  fortnight  after.  We  found  that  since  they  had 
left  the  city,  they  had  had  no  case  of  cholera  on  board, 
and  thanked  God  with  all  our  hearts. 

You  may  imagine  us  then  toiling  for  thirteen  hun- 
dred miles  and  upwards  against  the  rapid  currents  of 
the  Mississippi  and  Ohio.    This,  at  a  season  when 


THE  CAVALIER  STEAMBOAT. 


215 


natural  scenery  had  lost  its  charm,  you  will  suppose 
must  necessarily  have  proved  a  trial  of  patience.  In 
some  degree  I  grant  that  it  was  such,  nevertheless  not 
so  great  as  might  be  argued  by  those  who  know  the 
impatience  of  modern  travellers  ;  and  now  that  it  is 
over,  I  look  with  interest  upon  all  that  we  learned  or 
experienced. 

1  will  not,  however,  present  you  with  any  thing  in 
the  form  of  a  journal.  It  was  the  3th  of  December 
when  we  left  Montgomery's  Point :  we  halted  at 
Memphis  in  Tennessee  on  the  7ih,  and  reached  the 
Mouth  of  the  Ohio  on  the  10th.  Little  did  we  fore- 
see that  that  very  day  twelvemonth  we  should  be  again 
at  the  same  spot  on  our  descent  from  the  Falls  of  St. 
Anthony  to  New  Orleans. 

We  found  that  the  Ohio  was  in  flood,  and  at  Louis- 
ville, which  we  reached  on  the  13th,  the  steamboat 
passed  straight  up  the  Rapids,  instead  of  going 
through  the  canal.  The  15th  was  spent  at  Cincinnati, 
and  finally  on  the  21st  we  landed  at  Wheeling,  and 
continued  our  route  by  land  over  the  Alleghany  to 
Baltimore.  But  I  have  still  some  scenes  and  events  to 
record  before  we  quit  the  West. 

Poor  M'Connaughy !    He  made  his  appearance  on 
board  the  '  Cavalier'  in  piteous  plight.    A  few  daj^s 
before,  he  was  sober — possessed  of  a  good  character — 
with  good  prospects  ;  home  before  him  and  ninety 
dollars  ready  money  in  his  pocket.    He  was  now 
stripped  of  clothes,  sense,  character,  and  cash.  At 
Little  Rock  he  had  met  with  one  of  the  numerous 
gangs  of  sharpers  always  lying  in  wait  for  the  weak 
and  unwary.    He  quarrelled  with  his  companion  for 
giving  him  good  advice  ;  and  after  being  well  flattered 
and  then  made  tipsy,  he  became  the  complete  dupe  of 
the  unprincipled  crew.    He  first,  as  related,  broke  his 
engagement  with  us  and  wished  to  stay.    He  then 
suddenly  made  a  tipsy  resolve  to  descend  the  river  and 
continue  his  voyage  home  by  steamboat :  but  his  new- 
found acquaintances  sturk  to  him  like  blood-suckers. 
The  sharper,  whose  dupe  he  had  principally  been, 


216  THE  CAVALIER  STEAMBOAT. 


had  come  on  board  the  *  Reindeer,'  ragged  from  head 
to  foot,  half-drunk,  with  his  head  tied  up  in  a  dirty 
cloth,  his  linen  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  the  last 
broil : — but  as  M'Connaughy  waned  he  waxed,  and 
after  a  day  spent  in  gaming,  swopping,  and  debauch 
at  Montgomery's  Point,  the  two  parties  were  seen  in 
very  altered  guise,  to  wit :  Private  M'Connaughy,  so 
exceedingly  tipsy  that  he  could  not  tell  his  shoulder 
from  his  elbow, — flushed, — without  shoes  or  waistcoat, 
- — attired  in  a  torn  blue  surtout  with  a  faded  velvet 
collar,  for  which  he  had  given  twenty  dollars,  a  pair 
of  old  drawers  hanging  over  his  heels,  no  hat,  and 
pennyless.  Mr.  M'Sharper,  exceedingly  decent  and 
sober  ;  garbed  in  a  good  pair  of  military  trowsers,  an 
excellent  blanket  coat,  a  pair  of  span  new  boots,  a 
pocket  full  of  money,  and  a  chest  full  of  clothes.  All 
his  backers  too  looked  the  better  for  this  fortuitous 
gleam  of  sunshine. 

The  upshot  of  the  business  was  that  our  poor  tipsy 
paddler  was  left  ashore,  through  his  own  carelessness, 
at  some  landing  place,  about  three  hundred  miles  up 
the  river,  and  thus  had  probably  to  begin  the  world 
anew  :  and  as  to  the  principal  swindler,  the  bandaged 
ruffian,  he,  being  detected  before  he  had  been  a  day  on 
board  in  the  act  of  theft,  was,  on  the  whole  affair 
being  represented  to  the  Captain,  promptly  set  on 
shore  on  a  sand-bar  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  to  shift 
for  himself  Prompt  justice  and  well-earned, — almost 
worthy  of  the  good  old  reign  of  the  Regulators. 

No  sketch  of  mine  could  give  you  an  adequate  idea 
of  the  steamboat  of  the  West.  From  the  epoch  of  the 
launch  of  that  solitary  Wanderer,  whose  first  voyage  I 
have  elsewhere  recorded,  up  to  the  close  of  1833,  it  is 
computed  that  about  five  hundred  boats  of  various 
sizes,  from  one  to  five  hundred  tons  burden,  had  been 
constructed  or  run  upon  the  Mississippi  and  its  tribu- 
taries. A  very  small  portion  of  these  were  built  prior 
to  1820,  and  the  number  of  new  boats  launched  yearly, 
for  several  years  back,  is  stated  to  have  been  upwards 
of  fifty. 


THE  CAVALIER  STEAMBOAT. 


217 


There  is  a  great  difference  between  the  build  and 
interior  arrangement  of  the  Eastern  and  Western 
steamboat,  and  both  are  essentially  distinct  from  those 
unadorned  but  compact  vessels,  which,  propelled  in  the 
same  manner,  buffet  the  boisterous  and  dangerous  bil- 
lows of  our  narrow  seas,  straits,  and  roadsteads. 

As  to  the  Enstern  steamboat,  the  whole  of  the  hold 
is  converted  into  cabins — the  transport  of  heavy  freight 
being  no  part  of  the  speculation  ;  they  are  superior  in 
finish  and  durability,  but  not  in  appearance,  to  those  of 
the  West,  and  cost  much  more  ;  being,  moreover,  al- 
most invariably  furnished  with  low-pressure  engines. 
On  the  contrary,  the  whole  of  the  hull  of  the  steam- 
boat of  the  West  being  appropriated  for  the  transport 
of  goods,  the  cabins  are  generally  constructed  upon 
the  main-deck.  The  vessels  consequently  appear  much 
higher  out  of  the  w^ater,  and  every  one  must  be  greatly 
struck  at  the  first  sight  of  these  huge  floating  palaces, 
with  their  double  tiers  of  gay  cabins.  The  boilers, 
which  are  cylindrical,  and  vary  from  four  to  double 
that  number,  are  placed  forward  on  the  main-deck  ; 
and  behind  them  the  machinery  is  arranged  towards 
the  centre  of  the  vessel,  enclosed  between  the  huge 
paddle-boxes,  and  a  row  of  offices  on  either  side. 
The  great  cylinder  lying  in  a  horizontal  position, 
the  piston  works  on  the  same  plane.  Thus  in  the 
Western  boat  the  whole  arrangement  and  movement  of 
the  engine  is  horizontal,  while  in  the  East  it  is  perpen- 
dicular. Sometimes  a  ladies'  cabin  is  constructed  on 
the  same  deck,  in  the  stern  of  the  boat ;  but,  more 
generally,  this  part  is  given  up  to  the  so-called  deck- 
passengers,  and  the  whole  range  of  superior  cabins  is 
built  upon  an  upper  deck,  extending  from  the  stern 
over  that  part  of  the  vessel  where  the  boilers  are  situ- 
ated, the  portion  most  in  advance  being  called  the 
boiler-deck.  Through  the  latter,  the  great  chimney 
pipes  conducting  the  smoke  from  the  fires  below  ascend, 
and  as  the  range  of  cabins  does  not  extend  quite  so  far, 
the  open  space  and  the  view  afforded  by  it  renders  it  a 
favourite  lounge.    Of  the  disposition  of  the  cabins  little 

VOL.  I.  19 


218  THE  CAVALIER  STEAMBOAT. 


need  be  said.  The  ladies'  apartment  is  aft,  and  opens 
with  sliding  doors  and  curtains  into  the  main,  or  gen- 
tlemen's cabin,  which  is  frequently  fifty  or  sixty  feet  in 
length.  Both  are  furnished  with  handsome  tiers  of 
upper  and  lower  berths,  canopied  with  ample  chintz 
or  moreen  curtains,  and  the  former  cabin  is  frequently 
fitted  up  with  state-rooms.  A  gallery  runs  round  the 
whole  exterior.  Between  the  forward  end  of  the  great 
cabin  and  the  boiler-deck,  ten  or  fifteen  feet  of  the 
deck  is  ordinarily  occupied  by  a  bar,  washing-room, 
captain's  and  stewards'  offices,  ranged  on  either  side  of 
an  antechamber.  On  some  of  the  larger  class  of 
steamers,  there  is  j^et  a  third  deck  and  range  of  cabins 
before  you  come  to  the  roof,  or  hurricane-deck — upon 
the  forward  extremity  of  which  the  glazed  and  painted 
cabinet,  containing  the  tiller,  is  placed,  affording  a  lofty 
and  unimpeded  view  of  the  channel. 

As  to  the  question  often  started  with  regard  to  the 
safety  of  the  principle  upon  w^hich  the  machinery  is 
generally  constructed  in  the  West,  much  might  be  said 
in  favour  of  high-pressure  engines  ;  and  in  spite  of  my 
full  consciousness  of  the  great  danger  attending  them, 
when  placed,  as  they  frequently  are,  under  the  care  of 
incompetent  and  careless  persons,  I  think  that  the  rea- 
sons given  are  good.  These  are  chiefly  founded  upon 
the  character  of  the  w^aters  navigated  ;  their  turbid 
state,  their  extraordinary  swiftness,  requiring  the  ap- 
plication of  great  power;  the  far  greater  simplicity  of 
construction  of  the  high-pressure  engine, — all  the  com- 
plicated condensing  apparatus  being  dispensed  with, 
which  is  of  great  consequence  in  a  navigation  where  a 
boat  must  proceed  five  or  eight  hundred  miles  without 
the  possibility  of  repair  ; — its  superior  lightness,  and  its 
being  calculated  to  work  off  all  the  steam  which  is 
generated  ;  and  lastly,  the  mud  is  not  apt  to  accumu- 
late so  fast  in  the  boiler  of  the  high-pressure  engine, 
being  blown  out  at  the  safety-valve,  while  under  the 
low-pressure  system  it  must  continue  in  the  boiler,  and 
by  interposing  a  stratum  between  the  water  and  the 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


219 


iron,  the  latter  is  sometimes  burnt  through,  and  explo- 
sion takes  place. 

Yet,  though  it  may  thus  be  well  maintained  that  the 
high-pressure  engine  is  belter  fitted  for  the  Western  na- 
vigation,— as  long  as  the  accidents  upon  those  waters 
are  so  frequent,  and  the  loss  of  human  life  so  great  as 
it  has  been  for  some  years  past,  it  is  no  wonder  that 
great  prejudice  must  exist  in  the  minds  of  many  with 
regard  to  the  system  pursued.  It  is  not,  however,  the 
principle  which  is  wrong — it  is  the  careless  use  of  it. 
The  history  of  steamboat  disaster  is  one  of  the  most 
terrible  and  revolting  imaginable ;  and  the  disregard 
of  human  life  which  is  as  yet,  generally  speaking,  a 
feature  of  the  West,  is  a  sure  proof  that  the  standard 
of  moral  feeling  is  low. 

I  have  seen  so  much  during  four  or  five  thousand 
miles  of  steam  navigation  in  this  part  of  the  country,  as 
to  believe,  that  there  are  few  voyages  of  more  evident 
peril  in  the  world  than  that  from  St.  Louis  or  Louis- 
ville to  New-Orleans,  or  vice  versa  ;  for,  leaving  out  of 
the  question  the  casualties  incident  to  the  navigation, 
arising  from  snags,  ice,  rocks,  fire,  or  being  run  down, 
in  consequence  of  which  numbers  have  perished, — 
the  peril  which  impends  over  you  from  a  tremendous 
power  like  that  of  steam,  being  left  under  the  direc- 
tion of  incompetent  or  careless  men,  is  a  constant  and 
fearful  one."^ 

The  sketch  of  a  day's  proceedings  on  board  will 
perhaps  give  you  a  livelier  idea  of  our  position,  and  of 
the  scenes  connected  with  it,  than  can  be  otherwise 
conveyed. 

State-rooms  are  not  always  to  be  had  by  gentlemen, 

*  By  a  published  list  of  the  steamboats  lost  on  the  western  waters, 
from  July,  1831,  to  July,  1833,  their  number  would  appear  to  be  sixty- 
seven,  viz. — Seven  burnt  under  way ;  nine  in  port ;  twenty-two  snag- 
ged ;  two  sunk  by  rocks ;  five  by  running  foul ;  seven  by  ice  ;  and 
fifteen  abandoned  as  unfit :  and  previous  to  that  time,  out  of  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty-two,  which  had  been  on  the  river,  but  did  not  exist 
in  1831,  sixty-six  had  been  worn  out  ;  thirty-seven  snagged  ;  sixteen 
burnt ;  three  run  down  ;  four  or  five  stove  by  ice  or  rocks  ;  and  thirty 
destroyed  otherwise. 


220  THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


as  they  are  commonly  found  to  be  attached  to  the  la- 
dies' cabin  alone — but  in  case  they  are  unoccupied  they 
may  be  secured,  and  your  position  is  so  far  more  than 
ordinarily  a  favoured  one,  as  you  have  private  access 
to  them  by  the  outward  gallery.  Otherwise  it  must  be 
conceded  that  nothing  is  omitted  that  the  known  inge- 
nuity of  this  people  can  contrive,  to  render  the  berths 
in  the  main  cabin  as  tidy  and  ornamental  in  appearance 
by  day,  and  as  secluded  and  convenient  by  night  as 
circumstances  permit  of.  They  are  so  arranged,  that 
when  you  retire  to  rest,  the  thick  curtains  with  their 
vallance  can  slide  forward  upon  brass  rods, two  or  three 
feet  from  the  berth  itself,  and  thus  form  a  kind  of  draped 
dormitory  for  you  and  your  companions. 

About  an  hour  before  the  time  appointed  for  break- 
fast, after  the  broom  has  been  heard  performing  its 
duty  for  some  time,  a  noisy  bell  rung  vociferously  at 
the  very  porches  of  your  ear,  as  the  domestic  marches 
from  one  end  of  the  cabin  to  the  other,  gives  notice  that 
the  hour  of  rising  has  arrived,  and  it  is  expected  that 
every  one  will  obey  it,  and  be  attired  in  such  time  as  to 
allow  the  berths  to  be  arranged,  and  the  whole  cabin 
put  in  its  day  dress,  before  the  breakfast,  which  like  all 
the  other  meals  is  set  out  in  the  gentlemen's  cabin,  is 
laid  upon  the  table.  In  vain  you  wish  to  indulge  in  a 
morning  doze,  and  thus  to  cut  short  the  day ;  every 
moment  your  position  becomes  more  untenable.  Noises 
of  all  kinds  proceed  from  w^ithout.  You  persevere — 
shut  your  eyes  from  the  bright  light  which  glares  upon 
you  through  the  httle  square  window  which  illumines 
your  berth,  and  your  ears  to  all  manner  of  sounds. 
Suddenly  your  curtains  are  drawn  unceremoniously 
back,  the  rings  rattle  along  the  rods,  and  you  see  your 
place  of  concealment  annihilated  and  become  a  part  of 
the  common  apartment,  while  the  glistening  face  and 
bright  teeth  of  the  black  steward  are  revealed,  with 
eyes  dilated  with  well  acted  surprise,  as  he  says, '  Beg 
pardon.  Colonel ;  thought  him  war  up:  breakfast  al- 
most incessantly  on  de  table.'  He  retrogrades  with  a 
bow,  half-closing  the  curtains ;  but  you  have  no  choice, 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT.  221 


rise  you  must.  Happy  he  whose  foresight  has  secured 
to  him  all  the  enjoyment  of  the  luxury  of  his  own  clean 
towels,  as  none  but  the  disagreeable  alternative  of  dry- 
ing his  person  by  the  heat  of  the  stove,  can  be  the  fate 
of  him  who  has  not  done  this.  As  to  making  use  of 
the  common  articles,  hung  up  for  the  accommodation 
of  some  thirty  citizens  in  rotation,  no  one  need  blush 
at  being  termed  fantastically  delicate  in  avoiding  that. 
There  exist  yet  certain  anomalies  in  a  position,  and 
under  a  state  of  society,  like  that  found  on  board  these 
boats,  which,  though  they  may  not  surprise  a  thinking 
mind,  and  maybe  accounted  for,  are  far  from  being 
either  pleasant  or  usual  elsewhere.  And  the  arrange- 
ments made  of  the  above  class  are  surely  of  this  kind. 

But  I  do  not  dwell  much  on  these  fertile  subjects  for 
a  traveller's  maunderings,  for  four  reasons.  First,  be- 
cause they  are  but  blots  on  the  general  picture,  and  as 
blots  they  are  considered  by  all  those  Americans  whose 
opinions  are  worthy  of  attention.  Secondly,  others, 
more  competent  to  the  task,  have  contrived  to  make 
them  sufficiently  notorious.  I'hirdly,  time  and  a  sense  of 
common  propriety  may  have  already  produced  changes 
for  the  better  ;  and,  lastly,  they  are  disagreeable  both 
to  recollect  and  to  detail. 

During  the  interval  which  elapses  between  your  be- 
ing thus  unceremoniously  ousted  from  your  quarters 
and  forced  to  begin  the  day,  and  the  ringing  of  the 
breakfast-bell,  you  may  walk  forward  to  the  boiler-deck, 
and  satisfy  yourself  as  to  the  progress  which  has  been 
made  during  the  hours  of  darkness ;  or,  if  you  choose 
to  follow  the  custom  of  the  country,  and  the  example 
of  a  great  majority  of  the  passengers,  you  may  linger 
in  the  antechamber  opposite  the  bar,  and  take  the  glass 
of  wine  and  bitters,  which  the  prevalence  of  that  com- 
mon complaint  of  the  United  States,  dyspepsia,  finds  a 
bad  apology  for.  The  Americans,  as  a  people,  are  far 
from  being  intemperate  ;  if  by  intemperance  you  mean 
absolute  inebriety,  of  which  less  is  seen,  as  far  as  a 
casual  observer,  like  myself,  might  judge,  than  in  any 
country  in  Europe.    But  if  by  intemperance  you  ua- 

19* 


223 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


derstand  a  habit  of  the  frequent  unnecessary  indulgence 
in  stimulants  and  dram-drinking,  then  do  they  richly 
deserve  the  stigma  ;  though  the  improvement  and  the 
return  to  sound  feeling  in  this  respect,  has  been  so 
general  in  many  parts  of  the  Atlantic  States,  that  the 
stricture  can  hardly  be  applied  to  them.  But  in  the 
West  and  South,  the  custom  prevails  to  a  degree  ruin- 
ous to  the  moral  and  physical  strength  of  a  great  part 
of  the  male  population.  And  whoever  has  been  w^it- 
ness  to  the  mode  and  the  marvellous  rapidity  with  which 
the  hot  cakes  and  viands  of  the  plentiful  tables  of  steam- 
boats and  hotels  are  cleared  and  consigned  to  the  stom- 
ach, without  the  possibility  of  having  undergone  the 
natural  process  of  preparation,  which  nature  has  indi- 
cated as  advisable,  both  from  the  number  and  construc- 
tion of  the  human  teeth,  and  the  original  smallness  of 
the  sw^allow,  need  seek  no  further  into  the  arcana  of 
natural  causes  to  account  for  the  pale  faces,  contracted 
chests,  and  lack-lustre  eyes  of  a  great  number  of  citizen 
travellers  in  all  parts  of  the  West.  Compared  w  ith  this, 
what  are  the  effects  of  climate  or  sedentary  life  ?  or 
even  the  possible  hinderance  to  a  natural  and  easy  di- 
gestion consequent  upon  the  internal  heat  generated  by 
republicanism,  and  the  weight  of  democratic  cares  ? 

But  I  have  anticipated  breakfast  by  alluding  to  its 
principal  feature.  The  table  is  spread  with  substantials, 
both  in  profusion  and  variety ;  and  considerable  impa- 
tience is  generally  observable  to  secure  places,  as  it 
frequently  happens  that  the  number  of  cabin  passengers 
is  greater  than  can  be  seated  with  comfort  at  the  table, 
however  spacious.  The  steward,  or  his  assistant,  after 
many  a  considerate  glance  at  his  preparations,  to  see 
that  all  is  right,  goes  to  the  ladies'  cabin,  and  announces 
breakfast — an  announcement  which  is  generally  fol- 
lowed by  their  appearance.  They  take  their  places  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  table,  and  then,  and  not  till  then, 
the  bell  gives  notice  that  individuals  of  the  rougher  sex 
may  seat  themselves.  The  meal  I  leave  to  your  lively 
imagination  to  picture.  I  have  noted  its  chief  charac- 
teristic.   You  might  imagine  that  the  beings  engaged 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


223 


in  it  were,  for  the  time,  part  of  the  engine,  which  is 
sighing  and  working  underneath  at  the  rate  of  one 
hundred  strokes  in  the  minute,  so  hltle  does  their  oc- 
cupation admit  of  interruption.  There  is  little  or  no 
conversation,  excepting  of  the  monosyllabic  and  ejacu- 
latory  kind  which  is  absolutely  necessary  ;  and  instead 
of  the  social  hour,  during  which,  in  other  lands,  the 
feast  of  the  body  is  often  found  to  be  compatible  with 
the  feast  of  the  soul, — you  spend,  in  fact,  an  uneasy  ten 
minutes,  in  which  the  necessary  act  of  eating  is  cer- 
tainly stripped  of  all  the  graces  under  which  supercul- 
tivation  contrives  to  shroud  its  sensuality,  and  is  re- 
duced to  the  plain  homely  realities  of  bestial  feeding. 
Wo  to  the  poor  gentleman  of  habitually  slow  and  care- 
ful mastication — he  who  was  taught  to  '  denticate,  mas- 
ticate, champ,  chew,  and  swallow  !'  Wo  to  the  man 
of  invariable  habits— he  whose  conversational  powers 
are  the  greatest  during  repast — the  proser — the  senti- 
mental bon-vivant  who  loves  to  eat  and  think — or  the 
gentleman  with  stiff  jaw-bones  and  slow  deglutition  ! 
Wo  to  the  epicure,  whose  eye  might  well  else  dilate  at 
the  sight  of  the  well  covered  board,  and  its  crowd  of 
western  delicacies.  Wo  to  the  hungry  gallant,  whose 
chivalry  cannot  suffer  him  to  enjoy  a  morsel  till  he  has 
seen  the  ladies  well  served  and  attended  through  the 
meal.  Small  credit  gets  the  good-natured  soul  who 
deftly  carves  for  all,  and  ever  carves  in  vain.  There 
is  no  quarter  given.  Many  of  the  males  will  leave  the 
table  the  moment  they  are  satisfied — the  ladies  leave  it 
as  soon  as  they  well  can : — and  then  in  come  the  bar- 
keepers, engineers,  carpenter,  pilot,  and  inferior  officers 
of  the  boat:  the  table  again  groans  with  its  load  of 
plenty,  and  is  again  stripped  and  forsaken,  to  be  a  third 
time  the  scene  of  feasting  for  the  black  steward  and 
coloured  servants  of  both  sexes.  During  these  latter 
scenes  of  the  same  act  of  the  same  play,  1  need  hardly 
press  you  to  quit  the  cabin  for  the  seats  on  the  boiler- 
deck,  or  still  better,  for  the  hurricane-deck  above. 

In  fine  warm  weather,  more  especially  during  your 
first  voyage  in  the  West,  both  curiosity  and  comfort 


/ 


224  THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


will  lead  you  to  spend  by  far  the  greater  part  of  your 
time  in  the  open  air  ;  where  the  gentle  breeze,  fresh- 
ened by  the  rapid  motion  of  the  boat,  and  the  magical 
manner  in  which  scenes  rise  and  disappear,  will  al- 
ways cheer  you,  while  with  conversation  and  reading 
you  while  away  the  monotonous  hours  of  a  long  morn- 
ing. Should  the  boat  be  one  of  the  first  class  for  power, 
well  commanded  and  carefully  engineered,  and  the  sea- 
son fine,  few  situations  could  be  named  of  an  equally 
exciting  character.  It  is  possible  that  you  may  meet 
with  a  few  well-bred,  intelligent  travellers — that  you 
may  be  both  in  good  health  and  good-humour — that 
the  general  run  of  the  voyage  may  be  prosperous  and 
without  accidents  or  detention.  The  steamboat  may 
have  an  engine  which  works  smoothly  and  without 
jarring,  so  that  the  use  of  your  pen  may  be  easy  ;  you 
may  have  contrived  to  keep  a  few  books  in  your  trav- 
elling equipage  ; — the  cabin  may  be  fully  adequate  to 
the  comfortable  accommodation  of  those  having  a  claim 
to  its  use.  Above  all,  favourable  circumstances  may 
have  given  you  friends  in  the  ladies'  cabin  ;  by  occa- 
sional visits  to  whom  at  proper  seasons,  you  may 
please  and  be  pleased.  If  so,  well  and  good — but  you 
may  chance  to  fare  otherwise,  and  for  the  sake  of  illus- 
tration we  will  suppose  that  the  very  contrary  is  the 
case  in  almost  every  particular  ;  that,  heated  in  body 
and  mind  by  confinement  and  disappointment,  you 
are  peevish  as  a  pea-hen  ;  that  the  society  is  decidedly 
ill-bred  and  vicious — that  the  boat  jars  so  with  every 
stroke  of  the  piston  that  you  cannot  write  a  line — fur- 
ther, that  you  have  no  books — the  cabin  is  crowded — 
the  machinery  wants  constant  repair — the  boilers  want 
scraping.  This  hour  you  get  upon  a  sand-bank,  the 
next  you  are  nearly  snagged — drift-wood  in  the  river 
breaks  your  paddies — the  pilot  is  found  to  be  a  toper, 
— the  engineer  an  ignoramus — the  steward  an  econo- 
mist— the  captain  a  gambler — the  black  fireman  insur- 
gent, and  the  deck-passengers  riotous.  This  moment 
you  have  too  little  steam,  and  hardly  advance  against 
the  current ;  another,  too  much,  and  the  boat  trembles 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT.  225 


with  the  tremendous  force  exerted  by  the  power  that 
impels  her.  To  complete  your  dismay,  the  captain 
agrees  to  take  a  disabled  steamboat,  or  a  couple  of 
heavily-laden  barges,  in  tow  for  the  next  four  or  five 
hundred  miles.  Instead  of  accomplished  females,  such 
as  at  another  time  you  might  have  as  fellow-passengers, 
we  will  suppose  the  ladies'  cabin  to  be  tenanted  by  a 
few  grotesque,  shy,  uninteresting  beings,  never  seen 
but  when  marshalled  in  by  the  steward  to  their  silent 
and  hurried  repast,  and  never  heard,  but  when,  shut  up 
in  their  own  apartment,  a  few  sounds  occasionally  es- 
cape through  the  orifice  of  the  stove-pipe,  making  up 
in  strength  for  what  they  want  in  sweetness. 

What  are  you  to  do  in  such  cases  ?  You  may  lounge 
in  the  antechamber,  and  watch  the  progress  of  stimu- 
lating at  the  bar — you  may  re-enter  the  cabin,  and 
strive  to  get  possession  of  a  chair  and  a  gleam  from 
the  stove ;  or  you  may  ascend  to  a  small  apartment 
found  in  some  steamboats,  called  Social  Hall,  in  other 
words  a  den  of  sharpers  and  blacklegs,  where  from 
morning  to  night  the  dirty  pack  of  cards  is  passed 
from  hand  to  hand.  For  the  rest,  you  may  study 
human  nature  in  many  forms,  and  one  thing  will  not 
fail  to  strike  you,  and  that  is  the  marvellous  rapidity 
with  which  the  meals  follow,  and  the  world  of  import- 
ant preparation  which  passes  before  your  eyes  for  an 
end  so  little  worthy  of  it. 

The  time  occupied  by  the  supple-limbed  black  boys, 
Proteus  and  William,  in  drawing  out  the  long  table, 
laying  the  cloth,  and  other  preliminary  preparations, 
will  not  be  far  short  of  an  hour  ;  while  a  quarter  of 
that  time  suffices  for  the  demolition  of  the  various 
courses, — the  whole  meal,  as  already  described,  con- 
sisting of  a  shove  to  the  table,  a  scramble,  and  a  shove 
from  the  table.  Things  are  cleared  away,  and  the 
sliding  table  pushed  together  again ;  William  and 
Proteus  placing  themselves  at  either  end,  twenty  feet 
apart,  and  straining  with  might  and  main  till  the  ends 
meet.  You  take  a  dozen  turns  across  the  floor, — you 
read  a  little,  write  a  little,  yawn  a  little — when,  before 


226  THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


you  could  have  believed  it  possible,  the  stew^ard's 
myrmidons,  with  looks  of  infinite  importance,  enter 
again — seize  on  the  two  ends  of  the  table,  strain  them 
once  more  asunder,  and  the  work  of  preparation  re- 
commences. 

The  mass  of  the  society  met  with  upon  the  Western 
boats  is,  as  far  as  a  transient  traveller  may  be  allowed 
to  plead  his  individual  experience,  to  be  designated  by 
the  single  term,  bad.  It  is  one  thing  to  deny  the  truth 
of  a  statement  in  which,  I  believe,  most  travellers  of 
any  pretensions  to  education  and  moral  feeling  agree, 
whether  they  be  from  the  Eastern  or  Midland  States, 
or  from  Europe  ;  and  another  to  find  palliative  reasons 
why  it  cannot  be  otherwise  for  the  present.  A  man 
may  make  up  his  mind  to  glance  good-humouredly 
around  him,  and  to  look  upon  the  unwonted  society 
into  which  he  is  here  introduced,  with  equanimity, 
studying  neither  to  give  nor  take  oflfence  ;  but  nothing 
can  make  him  believe  that  what  appears  before  him  as 
absolute  vice,  is  in  fact  virtue  in  disguise, — or  that 
consummate  vulgarity  is,  in  fact,  any  thing  else.  My 
impression  was,  that  in  these  boats  we  came  in  contact 
with  much  of  the  scum  of  the  population,  and  in  judg- 
ing them  to  be  such,  I  was  far  from  believing  that  they 
were  a  fair  sample  of  the  people  of  the  West  generally. 
On  the  contrary,  it  was  not  the  uncouth  and  unculti- 
vated, but  honest  bearing  of  the  people  '  belonging  to 
the  river,'  which  was  offensive, — rusticity  and  vulgar- 
ity are  far  from  being  synonymous  terms — nor  that  of 
the  young  Kentuckian,  noisy  and  intemperate  as  he 
might  be,  stunning  your  ears  with  an  amusing  and 
fanciful  lingo,  which,  however  some  who  should  know 
better  may  attempt  to  dignify  and  perpetuate,  is,  after 
all,  nothing  but  slang.  The  decidedly  worst  company 
was,  I  found,  invariably  made  up  of  those  who  should, 
considering  their  pretensions  to  education,  public  em- 
ployment, or  the  sober  lives  and  civilization  of  the 
stock  from  which  they  came,  have  known  better.  And 
to  this  class  belong  many  of  the  Americans,  who  travel 
on  business  connected  with  commercial  houses  in  the 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


227 


large  or  small  towns.  They  are  as  busy  as  wasps 
in  a  sugar  cask  as  long  as  they  are  about  their  busi- 
ness, and  the  most  listless  of  human  beings  when  not 
so  employed.  They  have  apparently  no  thought,  no 
reading,  no  information,  no  speculation  but  about  their 
gains — dollar  is  the  word  most  frequently  in  their 
mouths  ;  and  judging  from  them  and  their  numbers,  the 
proportion  of  men  with  money  and  without  manners 
would  appear  to  be  greater  in  this  part  of  the  globe 
than  elsewhere. 

There  is  one  operation  connected  with  your  daily 
progress,  which  may  be  signalized,  as  it  affords  some 
variety,  and  breaks  the  monotony  of  your  proceedings. 
This  is  wooding,  or  the  hour's  halt  at  one  of  the 
innumerable  farms  or  wood-yards,  for  the  purpose  of 
laying  in  the  necessary  stock  of  fuel ;  the  quantity  of 
which  that  is  burned  in  the  course  of  twenty-four 
hours  on  board  a  steamboat  of  four  or  five  hundred 
tons,  is  almost  incredible. 

This  halt  generally  takes  place  twice  a  day,  morn- 
ing and  evening,  when  the  whole  of  the  bow  of  the 
boat,  and  on  either  side  of  the  furnaces,  is  covered  with 
regular  piles.  Besides  the  opportunity  thus  afforded 
of  going  ashore,  the  scene  is  always  a  busy  and  lively 
one,  as  in  addition  to  the  crew  being  engaged  in  it, 
the  major  part  of  the  deck  passengers  lend  a  hand,  in 
consideration  of  a  reduction  in  the  passage  money, 
which  it  is  to  the  advantage  of  the  proprietors  to  make, 
as  this  procedure  is  productive  of  a  great  saving  of 
time.  During  the  night,  immense  fires  are  kept  blazing 
at  the  wood-yards,  to  direct  the  boats  where  to  find 
them,  and  the  scene  then  presented  in  wooding  is 
highly  wild  and  picturesque. 

Among  the  beings  attached  to  a  Western  steamer, 
there  is  one  class  too  remarkable  to  be  passed  by,  and 
this  is  composed  of  the  firemen,  the  sphere  of  whose 
labour  is  directly  on  the  bow  of  the  boat,  upon  which 
the  long  row  of  gaping  furnaces  open.  They  are  almost 
invariably  athletic  negroes  or  mulattoes.  The  labour, 
which  would  be  considered  pretty  severe  by  all  but 


228 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


themselves,  is  generally  performed  amid  bursts  of  bois- 
terous merriment,  jests,  and  songs ;  and  the  peculiar 
character  of  the  latter  has  often  made  me  hang  over 
the  boiler-deck  railing  to  listen  ;  particularly  after  dark, 
when  the  scene  was  very  striking  from  the  bright  ruddy 
glare  thrown  upon  and  around  them,  while  with  a 
thousand  grimaces  they  grasped  the  logs  and  whirled 
them  into  the  blazing  throat  of  the  furnaces.  Their 
ordinary  song  might  strictly  be  said  to  be  divided  into 
a  rapid  alternation  of  recitative  and  chorus — the  solo 
singer  uttering  his  part  with  great  volubility  and  alert- 
ness, while  the  mass  instantly  fell  in  with  the  burden, 
which  consisted  merely  of  a  few  words  and  notes  in 
strictly  harmonious  unison. 

As  usual  we  were  not  without  our  quantum  of  K(3n- 
tucky  boatmen  and  backwoodsmen  on  board,  that  race 
whose  portrait  sketched  by  himself  as  '  half  horse,  half 
alligator,  with  a  dash  of  the  steamboat,'  and  filled  up 
by  the  wondering  and  aw^e-struck  travellers  from  the 
Old  World,  has  been  so  often  the  subject  of  mirth  and 
obloquy.  I  fear  the  genuine  breed  is  getting  rather 
scarce  ;  at  least,  though  I  saw  many  boisterous  doings, 
and  many  an  amusing  specimen  of  rough  manners,  I 
never  saw  any  one  stabbed  or  gouged.  Take,  how- 
ever, the  portrait  of  the  extraordinary  '  Kentucky 
Swell,'  who  was  our  fellow-passenger  for  a  day  or 
two  in  the  Cavalier.  He  came  up  with  the  boat  from 
New-Orleans,  accompanied  by  his  father,  a  fine,  hale, 
sensible  old  man,  clad  in  a  suit  of  home-spun  from  the 
loom  of  his  wife  and  daughters.  He  had  perhaps  also 
been  a  *  swell'  in  his  youth,  but  all  had  sobered  down 
into  an  independent,  staid  demeanour.  Every  word 
he  spoke  was  full  of  good,  sound  sense — that  kind 
which  age  and  experience  can  alone  produce  ;  and  my 
slight  intercourse  with  him  added  to  the  respect  w^hich 
I  feel  to  those  of  his  class,  in  whom  generous  feeling, 
sound  practical  sense,  and  shrewd  judgment,  are  often 
found  united  with  unassuming  manners  and  simple- 
heartedness.  His  maxim,  the  wisdom  of  which  he 
upheld,  after  bringing  up  a  fine  family  of  sons,  was — 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT.  229 


*  I  give  my  boys  seven  years'  play,  seven  years'  labour, 
and  seven  years' instruction ;'  and  though  his  youngest, 
whose  figure  will  be  before  you  anon,  evidently  showed 
that  a  few  years  more  must  pass,  before  all  the  good 
fruits  of  this  system  were  fully  developed,  I  am  not  at 
all  inclined  to  dispute  it. 

They  were  returning  from  New-Orleans  to  their  plan- 
tation. The  dress  of  the  parent  I  have  alluded  to.  That 
of  the  son  bore  no  resemblance  to  it.  He  was  strong 
and  well  built,  having  what  is  rather  a  rarity  in  the 
West,  shoulders  of  a  breadth  proportionate  to  his  height. 
His  countenance,  which  was  good,  with  a  bold  aqui- 
line nose,  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  that  of  his 
parent,  though  it  was  for  the  present  destitute  of  the 
expresssion  of  good  sense  and  honest-heartedness  by 
which  the  latter  was  eminently  distinguished.  His 
whole  dress  and  manner  were  peculiar.  A  coat  of 
strong  blue  cloth  of  the  Jehu  cut,  with  white  bone  but- 
tons of  the  Jehu  size,  the  standing  collar  of  which  wa^ 
always  pulled  up  over  the  ears,  and  concealed  them  be- 
neath its  shade,  served  at  the  same  time,  in  consequence 
of  its  being  tightly  buttoned  from  throat  to  waist,  to  hide 
the  neckcloth  and  waistcoat,  of  the  existence  of  neither 
of  which  am  I  therefore  able  to  make  affidavit.  This 
upper  garment,  which  was  certainly  typical  of  the  horse 
part  of  his  nature,  impended  over  a  pair  of  full  corduroy 
pantaloons.  The  legs  of  the  same,  though  constructed 
by  the  artist  of  amplitude  sufficient  to  reach  the  ankle, 
if  they  had  been  allowed  to  do  so,  having  apparently 
been  elevated  to  midleg  in  the  act  of  drawing  on  a  pair 
of  half  boots,  remained  hitched  on  the  top  of  the  latter 
during  the  whole  of  the  first  day  of  my  observations,  no 
effort  having  being  made  to  induce  them  to  descend  to 
the  ordinary  position.  On  the  second,  one  descended 
and  the  other  did  not,  and  in  this  way  Tom  Lavender 
sported  his  Nimrod-looking  person.  I  never  saw  his 
hands  ;  as  whether  sitting,  standing,  or  walking,  they 
were  always  thrust  decidedly  to  the  bottom  of  the  large 
flap  pockets  of  his  Jehu  coat. 

In  the  manner  in  which  he  disposed  his  person  in  the 

VOL.  I.  20 


230 


THE  WESTERN  STEAMBOAT. 


cabin,  when  inactive,  upon  two  or  three  chairs,  basking 
before  the  fire,  with  his  nose  erect  in  the  air,  I  thought 
I  detected  something  of  the  alligator  part  of  his  origin  ; 
while  in  the  impetuous  manner  in  which,  striding  for- 
ward with  outstretched  limbs,  he  perambulated  the 
cabin  or  the  deck  to  take  exercise,  alternately  inflating 
his  cheeks,  and  blowing  forth  the  accumulated  air,  I 
could  not  fail  to  detect  the  steamboat,  by  which  the 
purity  of  the  race  had  been  recently  crossed.  He  was 
a  man  of  no  conversation,  but  he  made  up  for  it  by  an  in- 
cessant hoarse  laugh,  filling  up  the  pauses  in  that  of  three 
or  four  trusty  young  cronies,  who  seemed  to  hold  him 
in  great  respect  and  consideration.  1  should  not  forget 
to  mention,  that  at  a  later  period  I  was  informed,  that 
the  mode  of  wearing  the  pantaloons  hoisted  half  leg  high, 
as  described  above,  was  premeditated,  and  intended  to 
give  an  ^ air  distingue  T 

About  noon  on  the  second  day,  the  steamboat  was 
directed  to  the  right  hand,  or  Kentucky  shore,  at  a  point 
w4iere  the  forest  appeared  cleared  from  the  bank  for 
many  hundred  yards  in  front,  and  the  long  line  of 
fencing  peered  over  the  edge,  denoting  a  large  and  ex- 
tensive clearing.  As  we  approached  the  landing-place, 
I  noticed  a  little  group  gathering  at  the  corner  of  a  pile 
of  cut  wood,  ranged  on  the  high  bank  above.  Over  the 
landing-place,  inclined  a  single  sycamore,  supported  by 
his  main,  perpendicular  root  over  the  river,  with  all  his 
leafless  branches  surrounded  by  the  sweeping  folds  of  a 
gigantic  grape  vine.  A  fine  handsome  man  stood  in 
advance,  and  upon  our  mooring,  came  slowly  down  to- 
wards the  boat.  His  resemblance  to  the  old  man  on 
board  was  too  striking  to  leave  us  in  doubt  as  to  his 
relationship  to  the  parties  I  have  described,  being  that 
of  an  elder  son  and  brother.  Our  companions  had  then 
reached  their  home.  While  a  knot  of  negroes  and  col- 
oured men  descended  to  the  boat,  with  their  teeth  dis- 
played in  the  broad  grin  of  welcome,  and  laid  officious 
hands  upon  the  pile  of  baggage  which  lay  on  the  boiler 
deck  in  readiness,  I  noticed  the  wife  and  daughter  of  the 
good  old  man,  half  sheltered  by  the  woodstack,  standing 


RETURN  TO  BALTIMORE. 


231 


coyly  in  the  rear,  till  the  whole  group  had  ascended  the 
bank,  when  they  all  proceeded  in  joy  and  contentment 
to  the  house.  The  dwelling  was  situated  a  few  hundred 
paces  in  the  rear — good  and  substantial,  w^ith  an  open 
conripartment  in  the  centre,  such  as  I  have  described 
elsewhere.  I  got  a  glimpse  of  it  by  following  the  party 
up  the  bank;  for  to  tell  the  truth,  the  meeting  was  both 
a  pleasant  one  to  see,  and  one  calculated  to  make  travel- 
lers like  ourselves,  thousands  of  miles  from  our  native 
countries,  feel  a  little  homesick  ;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  amusement  I  had  extracted  from  the  *  Swell,'  1  could 
have  found  it  in  my  heart  to  envy  him  the  snug  home 
and  warm  welcome  which  we  saw  him  receive. 

But  I  must  draw  to  a  conclusion.  Through  God's 
good  providence,  we  escaped  dangers  and  difficulties  of 
every  kind, — and  there  were  many  encountered  before 
we  reached  Wheeling,  just  as  the  river  was  filling  with 
ice.  There  we  took  a  stage,  and  proceeded  over  the 
Alleghany  into  Maryland.  We  arrived  early  on  Chiist- 
mas-day,  within  a  few  miles  of  what  was  to  be  the  termi- 
nation of  a  ver}  long  and  singular  ramble;  when  we 
got  unexpectedly  overturned  in  descending  the  Catoctia 
Mountain,  into  a  deep  ditch  ;  and  though  we  all  escaped 
with  limbs  and  lives,  I  got  a  sounder  blow  on  the  head 
than  ever  fell  to  my  lot  before ;— which  was  all  very 
well ;  as  it  made  me,  perhaps,  think  more  seriously  than 
I  should  else  have  done,  of  the  many  dangers  which  the 
hand  of  God  had  led  us  through,  in  peace,  health,  and 
safety. 


232 


TRAVELLER!^. 


LETTER  XIX. 

It  was  but  the  other  day  I  was  in  company  with  a 
gentlemanly  foreigner — a  Prussian  ;  acute,  reasonable, 
and  polite,  travelling  for  his  instruction  and  amusement, 
to  see  with  his  own  eyes,  and  to  hear  with  his  own  ears. 
The  conversation  turned  upon  the  difference  of  the  crim- 
inal law  in  our  respective  countries,  and  the  mode  of 
procedure  in  criminal  cases.  Two  things  had  struck 
him  with  reference  to  that  of  England  ;  first,  the  weight 
which  we  gave  to  mere  circumstantial  evidence,  in  the 
absence  of  positive  truth;  and,  secondly,  the  horrible 
severity  of  our  code,  and  the  administration  of  it.  He 
stated  he  had  been  seated  for  hours  in  the  court  of  ses- 
sions in  one  of  our  southern  cities,  and  that  out  of 
twenty  or  thirty  cases  under  consideration,  not  a  single 
prisoner  was  acquitted.  He  was  quite  horrified  !  Ac- 
cusation and  conviction  seemed  to  go  hand-in-hand. 
The  time  occupied  in  any  one  case  was,  as  he  stated, 
quite  insufl5cient  for  patient  investigation  ;  but  his  blood 
curdled  as  he  heard — Guilty — guilty — guilty  !  pro- 
nounced again  and  again  by  the  foreman  of  the  jury, 
before  he  had  had  time  to  make  himself  master  of  the 
bare  accusation.  The  idea  fixed,  by  the  evidence  of 
his  own  senses  on  his  mind,  was  this  :  that,  in  Eng- 
land, every  man  who  was  accused,  must  be,  and  was 
condemned.  And  1  wish  you  could  have  seen  how  wide 
he  opened  his  eyes,  when  he  was  forced  unwillingly  to 
relinquish  his  belief  by  a  calm  explanation  of  the  series 
of  preparatory  steps  through  which  every  individual 
ease  had  passed,  before  it  had  come  to  the  point  where 
he  had  seen  it  arrive,  for  positive  decision.  Of  the  ex- 
amination before  a  magistrate,  the  reconsideration  of 
cases  by  a  grand  jury,  he  of  course  had,  till  now,  no 


TRAVELLERS. 


233 


opportunity  of  hearing;  but  he  was  brought  to  confess, 
after  a  while,  that,  all  things  considered,  it  was  hardly 
to  be  conceived  that  innocence,  if  innocence  there  were, 
would  not  have  been  made  evident  in  the  previous 
stages  of  inquiry,  and  that  nothing  but  uncontrovertible 
evidence  of  guilt  could  be  received  and  made  the  cause 
of  condemnation. 

However,  something  was  to  be  learned  from  this,  and 
I  trust  I  was  not  myself  above  profiting  by  the  lesson, 
which  many  years  of  travel  have  assisted  in  impressing 
upon  my  mind  ;  namely,  that  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land  sees  with  strange  and  partial  eyes,  and  that  the 
difficulty  of  forming  a  correct  judgment,  even  with  close 
observation,  and  without  any  disposition  to  distort  facts, 
is  far  greater  than  might  be  supposed. 

Much  has  been  said  by  Americans  of  the  temper  and 
manners  of  English  travellers  among  them,  and  there  is 
hardly  a  book  published  hitherto,  bearing  upon  their 
social  and  political  state,  which  has  not  been  followed 
by  a  host  of  aagry  criticisms  in  the  periodicals  from 
Maine  to  Georgia.  I  grant  it,  they  have  had  much  to 
complain  of;  and  considering  all  things,  the  chuckle  of 
gratification  which  agitated  ihe  people  of  the  Union, 
when  lately,  his  transparency  Prince  Pucklar  Muskau 
first  drank  our  wine,  and  then  wrote  a  libel  on  us,  was 
such  as  might  be  sympathized  with. 

Their  visiters  are  accused,  and,  it  must  be  allowed, 
frequently  with  justice,  of  coming  with  minds  influenced 
by  prejudice,  and  carrying  away,  perhaps,  an  honest, 
but  certainly  an  unlucky  bundle  of  false  estimates,  false 
impressions,  and  false  conclusions.  Might  it  not  be  ad- 
mitted, that  travellers  from  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
have  hitherto  been,  with  but  rare  exceptions,  of  minds 
and  characters  little  calculated  to  carry  back  to  their 
own  land  just  notions  of  the  countries  they  have  been 
pleased  to  visit,  and  further  pleased  to  write  about. 

It  is  to  be  lamented,  that,  at  the  present  day,  when 
travelling  forms,  as  it  were,  not  only  part  of  the  educa- 
tion of  a  gentleman  in  our  own  country — the  main  recre- 
ation of  thousands  of  those  who  have  the  means  in  the 

20^ 


234        AMERICAN  TRAVELLERS  IN  EUROPE- 


middle  classes,  and  almost  the  business  of  hundreds— 
that  so  few  understand  anything  of  the  philosophy  of 
travel.  How  few  show,  by  their  mode  of  passing 
through  a  foreign  country,  and  their  occupations  and 
temper,  that  they  are  actuated  by  the  nobler  ends  attain- 
able by  the  survey  of  other  countries  than  their  own  ; 
and  for  one  who  will  show  by  his  conversations  and 
writings,  on  his  return  home,  that  his  mind  and  views 
have  been  participants  in  that  expansion  which  his  range 
of  travel  has  procured  for  his  natural  observation,  how 
many  come  back  with  confirmed  prejudices  and  nar- 
rowed souls  1 

And  with  regard  to  Great  Britain  and  the  United 
States  of  America,  but  little  has  been  done  hitherto  by 
the  travellers  from  either  side  of  the  Atlantic  to  do 
away  with  that  dust  of  angry  passion  and  prejudice 
which  filled  and  blinded  the  eyes  of  our  fathers,  both 
before  and  after  the  struggle  which  burst  the  ties  which 
till  then  existed  between  them.  Still,  though  family 
quarrels  are  said,  and  perhaps  with  reason,  to  be  of  a 
more  bitter  nature  than  any  other,  it  is  surely  time  that 
between  the  inhabitants  of  the  British  isles  and  those  of 
the  opposite  shores  of  America — speaking  the  same  lan- 
guage, claiming  the  same  literature,  the  same  early  his- 
tory ;  both  possessing  the  same  ardent  love  of  liberty, 
though  the  one  may  incline  to  the  monarchical,  and  the 
other  to  the  democratic  form  of  government, — wor- 
shipping God  after  the  same  manner  ;  each  containing 
thousands  of  real  Christians,  united  together  as  brethren 
by  the  closest  bonds  of  the  Gospel,  with  common  hopes, 
desires,  and  ends  in  living ;  and  the  one  receiving  yearly 
accessions  of  thousands  from  the  shores  of  the  other — ' 
should  cease  to  deem  one  another  natural  enemies. 

I  am  among  those  whose  personal  experience  inclines 
me  to  believe,  that  the  impulse  in  America  in  particular, 
is  towards  a  renewal  of  confidence,  and  the  return  of 
kindly  feeling  towards  the  country  from  which  they 
have  taken  the  broader  features  of  their  constitutions 
and  character,  and  whose  blood  was  the  blood  of  their 
fathers ;  and  this  in  spite  of  the  irritation  kept  up  by 


AMERICAN  TRAVELLERS  IN  EUROPE.  235 


the  press  on  either  side.  Yet  how  little  have  travellers, 
either  American  or  English,  done  hitherto  to  foster  this 
natural  feeling. 

Of  the  English  travellers  niore  anon  z  in  the  mean 
time  I  would  ask,  were  I  at  the  elbow  of  one  of  my 
friends  beyond  the  water,  who  might  join  the  general 
voice  of  his  countrymen  in  condemning  our  injustice  and 
illiberality, — whether,  as  Europeans,  and  more,  as  Eng- 
lishmen, our  position,  political,  moral,  and  domestic,  had 
been  subjected  to  examination  of  eyes  and  minds  less 
clouded  by  self-love,  prejudice,  and  ignorance  ?  I  grant 
the  overweening  love  of  John  Bull  for  his  country — - 
(may  it  never  diminish !)  his  sober  contempt  for  all  others 
— his  excess  of  prejudice, — the  ignorance  which  he  will 
frequently  expose  as  to  the  real  situation  of  another 
country  ;  yet  is  Brother  Jonathan  less  prejudiced  and 
less  ignorant?  To  judge  their  words  by  works  of  the 
Americans,  are  they  more  disposed  to  hear  good  of 
England  than  we  of  America?  Are  their  hackneyed 
and  senseless  tirades  against  our  monarchical  form  of 
government  and  aristocracy  more  just  than  ours  against 
their  democracy  ?  From  whom  is  the  citizen  of  the 
United  States  to  get  his  knowledge  of  the  true  state  of 
society,  political  or  moral,  in  England?  From  the  dis- 
affected who  come  over  to  him  ?  From  the  radical  or 
democratic  prints  which  are  the  favourites,  and  from 
which  most  of  the  information  given  to  the  American 
public  is  culled  ?  From  the  novels  of  the  present  day, 
reprinted  and  spread  through  America  from  east  to  west 
with  such  haste  and  avidity, — the  feverish  outpourings 
of  the  flimsy  philosophers  and  would-be  'master-spirits' 
of  the  age,  which  are  given  forth  to  a  gaping  public  as 
true  portraitures  of  the  manners  and  morals  of  the 
*  best  society  V  Is  America  to  judge  of  the  Old  World 
from  the  testimony  of  her  own  citizen  travellers  ?  Of 
these  my  limited  observation  has  shown  me  three  classes; 
besides  the  young  merchant  who  takes  a  short  run  while 
his  vessel  lies  in  port,  and  comes  back  with  the  credit  of 
having  travelled  in  Europe. 

The  first  is  the  most  numerous,  and  consists  of  young 


236        AMERICAN  TRAVELLERS  IN  EUROPE. 


men  having  the  wealth  at  command,  who,  either  from 
curiosity,  or  for  the  sake  of  doing  as  others  have  done, 
or  for  the  sake  of  learning:  the  European  languages,  pass 
a  few  years  in  travel.  They  visit  France  ;  breakfast  at 
the  cafes ;  dine  at  the  reslaurans ;  linger  in  Paris  and 
taste  its  follies,  till  health  and  funds  begin  to  fail ;  they 
run  off  to  Italy,  and  scour  back  by  Switzerland  and  the 
Rhine,  taking  England  on  their  way  home.  In  the  latter 
country  they  sneer  at  everything,  see  no  society  beyond 
the  bagmen  and  the  roue  at  the  hotels, — a  dinner  at  their 
merchant's  the  topmost  round  of  their  ladder.  They 
grumble  at  their  consuls  and  ambassadors  for  not  show- 
ing them  more  respect,  and  not  dancing  attendance  upon 
them ;  they  go  out  in  a  fuss  and  come  back  in  a  fume. 
At  home  they  boast  of  having  travelled — having  dined 
at  Abellard's,  supped  at  Bery's,  intrigued  with  some 
hanger-on  at  the  operas  or  theatres,  and  sported  a  Stullz, 
Their  republicanism  has  been  preserved  undiluted,  or 
even  been  concentrated  by  the  feeling  that  Europe  had 
no  grade  of  society  where  they  could  feel  quite  at  home. 
They  do  no  credit  to  their  own  country,  and  are  little 
capable  of  communicating  just  notions  of  Europe  or 
European  society ;  while  unfortunately  these  are  the 
very  men  from  whom  the  popular  idea  of  American  gen- 
tlemen has  been  taken. 

The  second  class  are  those  who  come  to  Europe  with 
a  disposition  and  the  means  to  enjoy  European  life  and 
luxury.  They  return  in  a  few  years  unfortunately 
spoiled  for  their  own  country.  They  complain  of  ennui 
— want  of  excitement.  Dazzled  by  the  false  glare  of 
society  in  Europe,  without  the  talent  which  would  teach 
them  to  look  beyond  it,  and  form  an  accurate  judgment 
of  its  peculiar  advantaoes,  they  have  become  blind  to 
the  charms  of  their  own  country,  and  its  claims  upon 
their  love  and  duty.  The  healthy,  but  less  polished 
society  of  the  United  States,  is  tasteless  to  them.  The 
simplicity  and  matter-of-fact  qualities  of  their  country- 
men become  odious.  They  only  breed  and  receive  dis- 
gust, and  by  showing  how  little  they  have  gained  from 


AMERICAN  TRAVELLERS  IN  EUROPE. 


237 


European  travel,  they  strengthen  prejudice  in  the  nainds 
of  their  fellow-citizens. 

The  third  class,  hitherto  a  very  small  one,  but  I  know 
it  to  be  increasing — equally  distinct  from  the  republican 
flippancy  of  the  first,  and  the  mawkish  pretence  to 
super-cultivation  of  the  second.  The  individuals  com- 
osing  this  class  have  not  only  the  means,  but  they 
ave  the  minds  that  fit  them  for  travel.  Education 
has  sown  seeds  which  the  latter  matures.  They  step 
upon  the  shores  of  Europe  with  bosoms  filled  with  eager 
and  natural  enthusiasm,  and  upon  that  of  England  with 
a  feeling,  which,  if  it  cannot  be  called  love,  is,  at  least, 
veneration.  They  may  pass  years  abroad,  revelling  in 
classic,  historic,  and  poetic  association ;  visiting  many 
climes  ;  peeping  into  many  degrees  of  society,  the  high- 
est and  the  lowest;  looking  calmly  at  men  and  things, 
and  learning  that  God  has  not  averted  his  face  from  the 
Old  World,  because  he  has  turned  it  on  the  New. 
They  may  form  many  ties,  and  linger  till  it  might  be 
prophesied,  that,  flattered,  caressed,  and  accustomed  to 
the  excitement  and  luxury  of  Europe,  their  thoughts 
and  hopes  were  weaned  from  America  ;  and  yet  such 
will  return  with  panting  bosoms  to  their  own  land — 
their  eyes  will  glisten  so  as  they  have  not  glistened  for 
years  at  the  sight  of  their  own  verdant  shores — and 
they  calmly  sit  down  in  the  bosom  of  society,  and  show, 
by  every  wo^'d  and  action,  that  their  birthright  and 
home  have  never  been  relinquished.  The  excitement  of 
Europe  has  passed  away  ;  but  they  find  sufficient  in 
the  return  to  early  scenes — the  faces  of  ancient  friends 
— the  marvels  which  an  absentee  for  a  few  years  must 
discover  in  this  land  of  promise,  and  in  the  glorious 
prospects  for  the  future,  sufficient  to  fill  both  head  and 
heart.  Having  brought  away  a  just  conception  of  Eu- 
rope, and  of  its  deficiencies  or  advantages,  they  may  be 
su[)posed  to  have  formed  a  just  estimate  of  America  ; 
and  having  been  temperate  in  their  use  of  the  luxuries 
of  the  former,  their  palate  is  not  so  depraved  that  they 
cannot  enjoy  the  more  simple  advantages  of  the  latter. 


238 


ENGLISH  TRAVELLERS  IN  AMERICA. 


They  were  an  honour  to  their  country  abroad,  they  are 
calculated  to  be  an  honour  to  her  on  their  return,  and 
wherever  the  influence  of  their  tennper  of  mind  is  felt, 
society  will  be  essentially  benefited. 

Such  examples,  and  I  could  name  many  among  those 
whom  I  esteem  as  friends,  make  you  not  only  honour 
the  individuals  themselves,  but  the  country  they  call 
their  home. 

With  regard  to  English  travellers  in  the  United 
States,  do  not  imagine  that  I  am  without  a  list  of  them 
also,  which  I  shall  forthwith  find  and  lay  before  you, 
leaving  you  to  detect  that  to  which  I  may  be  supposed 
to  belong.  Though  our  countrymen  are  found  by 
swarms  upon  the  teeming  roads  of  France,  Switzerland, 
and  Italy,  here  their  appearance  is  rarer,  and  therefore 
more  marked.  I  mention  first  the  Porcine  English 
traveller,  as  personifying  in  the  eyes  of  Brother  Jona- 
than the  identical  John  Bull.  A  few  of  this  class  are 
met  with  on  the  steamboats  and  railroads,  and  a  strag- 
gler or  two  in  the  interior  of  the  country,  marching  on- 
ward to  the  music  of  their  own  dissatisfied  grumbling, 
like  a  bear  with  a  sore  head.  They  are  seldom  long 
visitants.  They  arrive  from  England  on  a  hurried  tour, 
sometimes  accompanied  by  a  companion  in  training, 
one  of  those  who  travel  over  the  world  with  their  eyes 
shut  and  mouths  open.  They  are  sure  to  be  disgusted 
with  the  United  States,  where  they  have  neither  room 
nor  time  to  do  any  thing.  They  complain  of  crowded 
steamboats;  crowded  hotels  and  boarding-houses; 
crowded  carriages  ;  of  the  sharpness  of  people's  el- 
bows ;  the  quickly  satisfied  appetites  and  the  unre- 
strained gaze  of  all — the  impertinent  inquiries  of  a  few. 
They  see  nothing  but  want  of  polish,  want  of  taste,  and 
want  of  politeness.  They  ask  how  many  of  the  states 
are  included  in  the  term  Christendom.  They  rush  from 
New- York  to  Saratoga  ;  from  Saratoga  to  Niagara ; 
thence  to  Detroit ;  and  then,  in  utter  disgust,  determine 
to  quit  the  land  of  eq'.iality,  and,  in  a  paroxysm  of  loyalty 


ENGLISH  TRAVELLERS  IN  AMERICA.  239 


find  rekindled  toryism,  get  themselves  set  ashore  in 
Upper  Canada  ;  little  dreaming,  that  the  backwoods^ 
whether  of  Canada  or  tlie  United  States,  are  alike 
devoid  of  convenience;  and  that  every  new  country, 
whether  under  democratic  or  monarchical  rule,  presents 
pretty  much  the  same  phases  of  society,  and  the  same 
natural  features.  We  met  with  such  a  one:  a  decent 
gentleman,  but  in  a  paroxysm  of  despair,  not  knowing 
how  to  extricate  himself  from  a  position,  into  which  a 
crudely  conceived  desire  of  travel  had  beguiled  him. 
We  had  advantages  over  him  in  every  way  as  old  trav- 
ellers— laughing  at  a  certain  degree  of  privation — and 
our  commiseration  was,  I  own,  mingled  with  a  good 
deal  of  amusement,  the  more  as  his  case  was  in  no  way 
a  desperate  one  :  but  his  complaints  of  the  people,  and 
the  roads,  and  the  fare,  and  the  morals,  were  unceas- 
ing. After  having  been  squeezed  in  a  narrow  wagon 
with  others  during  a  whole  day's  journey,  and  hardly 
allowed  time  to  eat  the  unwonted  food  set  before  him — 
he  had  been  compelled  to  sleep,  as  all  must  in  such  a 
country,  in  a  cluster  of  log-huts,  half  open  to  the  air. 
He  had,  from  his  description,  out  of  compliment,  (I 
never  had  such  a  piece  of  good  fortune,)  been  permitted 
to  occupy  a  small  compartment  by  himself ;  and  after 
describing  the  bad  accommodations,  he  went  on  to  say, 
with  a  very  slow  mysterious  intonation,  as  though  com- 
municating a  horrible  incident,  '  And,  sir,  will  you 
believe  it,  I  found  that  in  the  end  1  had  to  sleep  with 
two  ladies  inside  of  me  !'  Now,  stout  as  the  gentleman 
was,  by  this  he  meant  nothing,  but  that  two  ladies,  trav- 
ellers like  himself,  had  had  to  retire  to  a  compartment 
beyond  his  own.  This,  however,  was  to  him  the  acme 
of  barbarism.  What  good  can  be  the  result  of  such  a 
traveller's  lucubrations? 

But  to  go  on  with  my  list.  You  see  here  the  specu- 
lator, the  theorist,  and  the  utilitarian  ;  often  men  who, 
unable  to  take  care  of  their  own  individual  affairs,  begin 
to  feel  great  anxiety  for  those  of  mankind  in  general ; 
as  you  may  have  seen  in  days  gone  by,  a  tipsy  gentle- 
man, when  just  upon  the  point  of  losing  his  reason,  begin 


MO 


ENGLISH  TRAVELLERS  IN  AMERICA. 


to  hold  forth  in  a  strain  of  maudlin  philanthropy  about 
his  neighbours,  and  sigh  deeply  for  the  welfare  of  the 
whole  human  race;  crowning  his  folly,  by  ofFerin^]:  his 
services  to  conduct  an  equally  tipsy  companion  home. 
Such  men  frequently  make  their  appearance  in  Amer- 
ica ;  disappointed  and  indigent;  having  lost  character 
in  their  own  country,  and  full  of  a  newborn  fervour  in 
favour  of  a  land  and  a  people  of  which  they  know 
nothing.  Their  indignation  at  having  divulged  their 
theories  in  the  former  to  deaf  ears,  will  only  be  equalled 
by  their  surprise  in  finding  that,  of  all  countries  in  the 
world,  the  United  States  contains  the  greatest  number 
of  matter-of-fact  men  ;  and  that  neither  admiration  nor 
support  will  be  granted  to  crude  and  untried  notions. 
And,  like  the  demagogue,  the  freethinker  in  politics  and 
religion,  and  many  a  one  who  leaves  his  country  in  high 
dudgeon,  after  long  tampering  with  petty  treason — men 
of  this  class  frequently  alter  their  opinions  and  language 
after  their  arrival  here,  as  they  find  a  sobriety  of  de- 
meanour and  sentiment  in  the  people,  which  ill  accords 
with  their  views  ;  and  then  they  abuse  the  country  with 
just  as  much  reason  as  they  lauded  it  before.  But  what 
good  is  to  be  expected  from  these,  or  their  reports,  on 
either  side  of  the  Atlantic? 

Next  comes  the  hasty  traveller — the  young  oflScer  on 
furlough — the  young  gentleman  on  his  return  home  from 
the  West  India  Islands,  who  lands  at  New- York,  deter- 
mines to  take  advantage  of  the  packet  to  Liverpool  on 
the  first  of  the  succeeding  month,  say  a  fortnight  hence, 
and  in  the  mean  time  to  visit  the  most  interesting  points 
of  the  United  States  and  Canada.  He  flies  to  Niagara 
by  the  canal  or  the  road  ;  then  takes  the  line  of  Ontario 
steamboats,  descends  the  Saint  Lawrence  to  Montreal, 
perhaps  visits  Quebec,  returns  panting  by  w-ay  of  Cham- 
plain  and  Lake  George,  to  the  Hudson,  and  thus  to  his 
port  in  the  very  nick  of  time.  Something  he  has  seen, 
but  can  carry  away  no  very  definite  notion  of  the  people, 
or  the  state  of  the  country. 

Another  class — the  prejudiced  and  pompous  travel- 
ler, travelling,  as  he  says,  for  information,  but  seeing 


ENGLISH  TRAVELLERS  IN  AMERICA.  241 


every  thing  through  a  bilious  medium,  and  neither 
pleasing  himself  nor  others.  In  the  cities  he  will 
grumble  at  the  hotels  ;  he  will  say  that  Bunker's  and  the 
City  Hotel  in  New  York  are  odious  ;  that  Gadsby's 
at  Washington  is  a  bear-garden, — in  which  by  the 
way  he  will  not  be  far  from  the  truth,  particularly  dur- 
ing the  meeting  of  Congress, — and  that  of  all  the 
sojourning  places  for  the  traveller  in  the  Union,  the 
Tremont  at  Boston  is  the  only  one  that  is  not  offensive 
to  a  degree.  In  the  country  he  will  be  horrified  by 
the  number  of  badly  made  coats  he  may  see,  forgetful 
that  at  least  he  meets  with  no  beggars,  and  sees  no 
marks  of  penury  and  want.  With  a  mind  morbidly 
inquisitive,  he  will  wish  to  persuade  himself  that  he 
understands  the  true  colours  of  every  thing,  at  the  same 
time  he  looks  at  all  through  a  piece  of  smoked  glass. 
In  his  observations  upon  the  politics  and  government 
of  the  country,  he  is  totally  at  fault,  not  having  taken 
care  to  draw  the  distinction  between  the  operations  of 
the  General  Government,  and  those  of  the  separate 
State  Governments ;  and  in  his  observations  upon 
society,  he  will  be  equally  far  from  just,  because  he 
makes  his  own  education,  breeding,  and  feelings,  the 
standard  of  comparison,  and  what  he  does  not  or  cannot 
understand,  must  be  wrong.  The  very  absence  of 
beggars  will  be  to  him  a  proof  of  a  low  degree  of  civi- 
lization. He  will  condemn  the  Americans  for  not  every 
where  showing  that  cultivation  to  which  he  may  have 
supposed  we  have  attained,  being  perhaps  of  two  lofty 
a  temper  to  reflect,  that  some  of  the  points  appertaining 
to  the  decencies  or  elegancies  of  life,  upon  which  he 
dilates  with  the  most  cutting  and  supercilious  sarcasm, 
are  precisely  those,  to  an  acquaintance  with  which  we 
ourselves,  as  a  nation,  have  been  but  very  recently 
introduced,  and  whose  general  adoption  dates  from  a 
yet  later  period.  An  Englishman  of  this  cast  will  be 
thunderstruck,  nay,  petrified,  at  hearing  the  oft-reiter- 
ated assertion,  that  English  is  spoken  better  in  America 
than  in  the  mother  country,  and  with  some  reason,  as 
nothing  but  his  own  observation  and  reflection  will 
VOL.  I.  21 


242 


ENGLISH  TRAVELLERS  IN  AMERICA 


show  him  what  foundation  can  possibly  exist  for  such 
an  assumption. 

If  he  stays  long  enough  in  the  country,  and  travels 
sufficiently,  he  will  grant  that  throughout  America  he 
will  generally  hear  Enghsh  pronounced,  as  he  may 
readily  understand  it.  Further,  that  the  dialects  which 
prevail  in  many  of  our  counties  do  not  exist,  though  in 
some  parts  of  the  Eastern  states,  a  language  very  much 
approaching  to  a  dialect  is  spoken ;  for  the  rest,  he 
will  find  that  though  as  far  as  the  general  pronunciation 
of  the  language  goes,  all  may  be  at  least  intelligible, 
there  will  be  a  great  deal  which  an  Englishman  can 
hardly  be  expected  to  understand  ;  that  slang,  quite 
as  incomprehensible  to  him  as  the  gipsy  lingo  of  our 
own  hedge-sides,  forms  the  common  mode  of  communi- 
cation in  some  parts  of  the  country;  and  that,  generally 
speaking,  there  are  few  ranks  of  society  in  which  a 
certain  degree  of  this  base  coin  is  not  current.  He 
will  find  from  the  style  of  conversation  of  Americans  of 
a  literary  turn,  that  out  of  the  main  cities,  and  in  remote 
parts  of  the  country,  it  is  evident  that  the  difference 
between  written  and  conversational  language  is  scarcely 
understood, — which  may  arise  from  the  speakers  having 
to  draw  their  language  more  from  books  than  from  the 
interchange  of  ideas  with  men  of  their  own  stamp ; 
and  that  consequently  the  use  of  big  and  pompous 
words,  such  as  load  the  newspaper  paragraphs,  is  much 
more  common  than  good  taste  would  admit.  But 
enough  of  the  pompous  traveller.  He  may  do  very 
little  harm,  but  he  will  do  no  great  good. 

You  may  further  meet  here  with  the  sentimental 
traveller,  who  having  read  Rousseau  and  Chateau- 
briand, and  become  enamoured  of  the  image  of  man 
in  a  state  of  nature,  unsophisticated  and  unspoiled  by 
civilization,  or  of  some  sweet  picture  of  savage  life, 
dives  his  way  through  the  forests  to  the  Indian  settle- 
ments, to  find  an  amiable  '  Chactas,^  or  still  more  ami- 
able ^AtalaJ  'Tis  a  bootless  errand !  The  bland 
traveller  also,  good-natured  to  excess,  losing  half  his 
time  in  asking  questions  of  those  who  cannot  answer 


ENGLISH  TRAVELLERS  IN  AMERICA. 


243 


them,  and  running  right  and  left  to  see  common  places  ; 
— the  book-maker,  he  who  comes  with  the  purpose  of 
writing  a  book  which  shall  contradict  one  in  the  mar- 
ket : — the  inquisitive  gentleman,  a  bore,  and  bored  in 
turn.  Then  one  or  two  travellers  who  having  long 
and  hotly  advocated  some  change  in  our  political  or 
ecclesiastical  government,  come  here  at  last,  to  do  what 
should  have  been  done  first — namely,  to  see  how  It 
works.  What  can  you  expect  but  ex-parte  statements 
from  such  people  f  They  are  like  geological  theorists, 
who  having  concocted  their  system  in  their  librarj- 
chair,  come  forth  and  make  a  tour,  in  which  they  would 
refer  all  the  phenomena  which  come  in  their  way  to  the 
test  of  their  own  petty  conception. 

And  now  I  fancy  I  hear  you  ask,  and  to  what 
order  of  English  travellers  in  America  did  you  belong  ? 
The  Porcine  ?  No.  The  speculator,  theorist,  or 
demagogue  ?  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  The 
hasty  traveller  ?  Not  altogether.  The  prejudiced  and 
pompous  ?  I  trust  not.  The  sentimental  ?  Decidedly 
not. 

Then  you  travelled  as  a  cosmopolitan  ? — No  :  I 
dislike  the  word.  I  love,  and  prefer,  and  uphold  the 
political,  social,  moral,  and  religious  superiority  of  my 
own  native  country  too  sincerely,  to  claim  the  title  of 
'  a  citizen  of  the  world,'  if  by  that  term  you  mean  one 
who  is  equally  at  home  and  without  preferences  where 
ever  he  wanders  over  its  broad  surface  ;  but  if  by  it  you 
would  designate  one  who  reconciles  himself  easily  for 
a  time  to  change  of  place  and  scene  ; — one  whose  im- 
pulse is  rather  to  sing  with  the  native  of  a  foreign  land 
than  to  quarrel  with  him  ;  to  see  good  ever^'where  ra- 
ther than  evil ; — one  with  a  facility  to  form  ties  with  the 
natives  of  every  clime,  and  enter  into  their  usages  and 
feelings  not  only  with  charity  but  with  pleasure,  so  long 
as  they  are  not  forbidden  by  his  Bible,  and  by  the  sense 
of  right  and  wrong  which  sound  education  and  good 
examples  may  have  given  him — so  far  I  am  a  Cosmo- 
politan, and  as  such  I  visited  America. 


E?vD  OP  VOL.  r. 


* 


/  i/ 


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